


Another Mage

by WalkingOnCars



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, and Cullen would have to be an idiot if he hadn't noticed, because Kirkwall's Templars were insane, mentioned rape, so it's sort of cannon, which he is and isn't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:40:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10093526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WalkingOnCars/pseuds/WalkingOnCars
Summary: So, basically I was thinking, what if the reason Cullen doesn't like dancing is cause he used to do it with a Mage Warden (that didn't actually become a warden because Duncan wasn't there) back in Kinloch Hold and he was really broken up about what happened to her. So the Inquisitor reminds him of her and he sort of struggles with separating the two of them. Sort of follows cannon (until it doesn't). Cause I really wanted to explore the extent of pain Cullen went through.(the mentioned rape happens in chapter 9 and it can be skipped as a summary is/will be provided in the following chapter)





	1. Epilogue: A Bit of the Past

DA: O

It’s just a bit of fun; it doesn’t have to mean anything. Her words replayed in his head as his grip tightened on her hip. It was against the rules for templars to fraternize with their charges. An intense longing overtook him. She was brilliant and bright, but she was a mage.

Her steps slowed and he unconsciously slowed in response, slowly coming to a stop. “What’s wrong?” Her hand moved from his shoulder to his jaw. She caught his hand before it could reach the back of his neck, “Cullen, just tell me.”

Forcing a smile he shook his head, “Nothing.” A more genuine, devious smile overtook his features as he lifted her up and spun her. She squealed, as he knew she would. When her feet hit the ground she smacked his chest playfully.

“Don’t do that.” She was still laughing as she shook her head. They knew that some things he could not share with her. He knew she accepted that about him and it only made him adore her more. At times he even found himself wishing circumstances were different. Had he not been a templar…had she not been a mage…

That thought brought his mind back to her impending harrowing. She would not have any warning before the events tonight. His stomach lurched every time he dwelled on the fact that he would have to be the one to…

“Cullen,” She put both her hands on either side of his face, “Whatever it is, the Maker will see it through.” Everyone in the circle was taught of the Maker and the Chant of Light.

He took a deep breath, his hands covered hers, keeping them in place. Her hands were small and soft and he suddenly wondered if all elves looked so fragile. “You are very clever.” The words were not entirely meant for her. She was far cleverer than any demon, certainly. He shut his eyes briefly to let that thought sink in. He could not let his mind be consumed with the thought of losing her. Maker, she had to survive this, for his own sanity.

~

He could barely breathe as he watched her approach, the first enchanter at her side. She was serious and accepting as she looked at Knight Commander Greagoir and First Enchanter Irving but when her eyes caught sight of him there was a pause in her gait. He could almost see the wheels in her brain come to a halt. The look she gave him was one of understanding. Greagoir and Irving knew they were close. It was as much a test for him as it would be for her.

When she stepped up to the lyrium podium she winked at him before slipping into the Fade. Greagoir caught her as she fell, gently putting her on the ground. The Knight Commander flashed a serious look to him as he stepped away.

His grip on the pommel of his sword did not relax while she lay there, unmoving. It was unnatural. She was always moving, full of life. It was why she liked dancing. Since apprentices were not allowed out of the tower she had told him she needed the exercise. She would be so much happier in the forest, running amuck with her magic and laughter, grass beneath her feet instead of stone. Elves didn’t wear shoes, she said.

When she finally started to move he tensed. Her hands flexed, then her arms, shoulders. She sat up slowly and the First Enchanter was by her side in an instant, a hand on her back. “Don’t force yourself. The Fade will wear you out.”

She mumbled something and promptly went slack. “Rutherford, bring her back to her room.” Greagoir commanded, relaxing considerably now that the ordeal was over with.

He couldn’t move fast enough, scooping her up in his arms. The walk back to her cot was decidedly slower. He didn’t want to put her down but the comings and goings of a templar in the mage’s quarters hardly went unnoticed.

~

DA: I

Cullen inhaled sharply when he saw her. The elf that had survived the cataclysmic explosion of the conclave was her exact image. Like she had been ripped out of his memories. He could barely hear the soldier’s explanation. Lone survivor. Fell out of the fade. Rescued by Andraste herself.

Ever since he had left the templars he had been thinking of her almost daily. It had been an added torture to his constant nightmares. Even now he avoided thinking of her name. Her dark skin was decorated with Dalish markings but even with them he could not shake the comparison from his mind.

Leliana ordered that she be brought to the Chantry.

He and his men stayed on the field, battling whatever the holes in the sky threw at them. Every time he shut his eyes he saw her face. There had been little in the way of updates. He knew the elven apostate was tending to her but he also knew the mark was killing her. Maker, he couldn’t lose her again.

It was that thought, that turmoil that kept him on his feet over the next few days. They passed in a blur. Nothing stemmed the tide of demons and the Inquisition’s “soldiers” were little more than farmhands, and that was if he was lucky. Still, they believed in what they were fighting for. Good men and women, children.

Every step caused him pain, his head wanting to shatter from the movement. But he had long since grown accustom to pain, and to demons. He was no longer a templar but demons were inevitable with the templar/mage war. He smiled through the pain and death around him. He was no templar, she was no circle mage. He felt a small pang in his chest. Maker he hoped she had been free to dance in the wilderness with bare feet like she had wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just sort of a warm up chapter. Like I said, I really wanted to give Cullen some depth other than Alistair look alike (cause I see that a lot). Fair warning, my Inquisitor gets along with everyone (some people don't like that).
> 
> Update every few (3) days. Because I'm a fan of longer chapters.


	2. The Hinterlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically just getting the story rolling here *cracks knuckles*
> 
> A brief overview of what's happening while the Herald is away. (I assume you already know the story otherwise it may be a bit confusing but if your like me and have played the game multiple times I don't want to bog you down with in-game dialogue.)

Cullen

He vaguely noticed Cassandra had entered the fray alongside him. Something he was grateful for since her presence pulled the shades’ attention away from his men. He could feel the barrier being placed around them as another wave of demons spilled from the rift. The terrors were quickly stunned with a lightning bolt that came a little closer than he might have liked. He used the pause to hack off one of their scrawny legs with his sword, bashing his shield forward to knock the creature over.

Once the demons were finally dealt with he shifted his attention back to his men. He only saw the light from the corner of his eye before the rift in the sky shrunk into nothing.

“Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift, good work.” He stared at the Lady Seeker in disbelief. ‘Good work’ was a vast understatement. How had she even…

“Do not congratulate me, Commander. It was the prisoner’s doing.” Cassandra said, gesturing over her shoulder to where the two elven mages stood.

Of course, the apostate’s theory that the mark on her hand could close the rifts, it looked like the man had been correct. “Well, I hope they’re right about you. We’ve lost a lot of good people getting you here.”

She looked incredulous at this. “Well, I hope they’re right too.” Maker, even her voice was the same.

~

Nialla Lavellan

She heard Solas chuckle over her shoulder at her comment to the human Commander. She shouldn’t be hard on him. Creators knew how long he had been fighting a losing battle while she had been unconscious.

Her gaze shifted higher to the mountains that would have taken her around this fighting. There were likely people dying up there because of the choice she had made to charge forward with the soldiers. But there would have been soldiers dying down here without her to close the rift. Sighing, she shook herself. There were no perfect choices in a war, and that was what the humans were in right now. A war.

~

“You think you can stop us?”

“Foolish girl.”

“Powerless to help.”

With the veil torn open the Fade was chaos, demons pressing to possess her everywhere she turned when she dreamt. Arguing with demons was like arguing with the humans; no matter how she tried to explain something they would only twist her words and thoughts. They wanted her angry, reckless, so that they could distract or weaken her.

The dreams felt more real than ever now. Was it the tear in the veil or her mark bringing her so close to them?

There was a sudden pull, forcing her mind somewhere new in the Fade. The image that stood before her reminded her of looking into a lake. She saw her own reflection but beyond that – like fish swimming beneath the surface – she saw another version of herself, only without her vallaslin, and the image of the blond Commander leaning over her.

A desire demon pulsed beneath her copy’s skin and she tried to shout a warning to the human but her lungs rushed full with water. The demon ran her hand over his jaw, speaking words she could not hear.

When she came awake she was gasping for air, having wrenched herself out of the Fade just as she felt she would pass out for the water that had consumed her.

She had unwittingly startled the young elven servant that had been bringing in some supplies. The girl dropped the box and apologized. “Why are you frightened? What happened?” Well, for starters what happened was that she had not died from the assault on the breach. Which was comforting knowledge.

~

Cullen

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore Roderick’s yelling and ludicrous demands. How did the man still think he was in charge? If it had been up to him the breach would have still been spreading. At least now it was stable, not spitting demons every five seconds.

“Chain her. I want her prepared for travel to the capitol at once.” Cullen almost snorted at Roderick’s demands. That was probably the last thing any of his soldiers were about to do.

“Disregard that and leave us.” The Lady Seeker ordered with a far more level voice than he thought her capable of at the time. She was as hot headed and stubborn as he was, likely more so if he was being honest. Lady Cassandra had been long since fed up with Chancellor Roderick’s demands.

He let his mind wander to the elf. To his surprise he caught her looking at him, worry in her eyes and words poised on her lips. Her attention quickly snapped back to Lady Cassandra.

Leliana was still angry about the explosion at the conclave, turning the tables on Roderick and accusing him. It was unlike Sister Nightingale to reveal her hand so early. She and Divine Justinia had been close and her death obviously affected her deeply that she would be so openly aggressive.

~

Nialla

It would take a week to reach the forward camp in the Hinterlands. Leliana had briefed them on Mother Giselle. Scout Harding would have a report for them once they arrived. Solas had warmed up to her easily enough. He reminded her of her clan’s elders and she found it strange that he was a flat ear.

“You have been having nightmares often.” Neither of them had gone into their tents just yet and the fire was warm and relaxing. Solas had sat beside her easily enough. Cassandra had retired almost immediately when they had set up camp and Varric retreated soon after, complaining about the cold and a long day of travel ahead of them.

Nialla shrugged at Solas’ comment, “I have bad dreams. It comes with the territory.” She flared out her hands in the direction of the fire and smiled when it twisted and leapt at her insistence.

“Are they different now that you possess the mark?”

She was quiet for a moment, not sure how much she wanted to tell a virtual stranger. “Are your dreams any different now that the veil has been torn open?”

He considered this, “There are fewer gentle spirits, they have retreated further into the Fade. Some were pulled through to this world against their will. The Fade has grown darker without them.”

“I feel as though…” She sighed and started using her magic to play with the fire more. “It’s like I can spy on people in their dreams. But I am unsure if the images are truly them or just demons trying to lure me into…something.” Since seeing the Commander she had also seen the Spymaster, a strange sort of demon hounding her steps. It was a rage demon but this one was stronger, quieter. Just looking at it made Nialla more withdrawn from her usual gentle nature.

Solas seemed entranced by her words, “Can you not tell the difference between these demons and the people?” It was a fair question, for one who traveled the Fade so often it must have been much easier for him.

“I cannot…” She reached her hand out like she had tried to do when she would call out to them. Trying to break the watery barrier between the parts of the fade. Words failed her as she thought of the helplessness she felt when she could not help them. “They won’t let me close enough.”

“The demons or the people?”

Nialla could feel tears prick at her eyes, the confusion eating away at her. “I don’t know.” Her words were harsher than she meant, defensive. She stood up, taking a deep breath as she turned away from him. “It is late, Solas. We should sleep.”

She caught his look of disappointment at her shutting him out so abruptly. “Of course, Herald.”

“We can speak more on it another time.” Her voice was barely audible but she knew he heard. His ears were just as sensitive as hers.

~

Cullen

Two months the Herald had been gone to the Hinterlands to see Mother Giselle. Her party sent reports to Leliana every three days but he was still anxious to see her. Josephine and Leliana were pleased that she had been growing the number of agents for the Inquisition. She had even managed to recruit some of the refuges after she saw that they had food and a healer.

Of course she had to help people, it was just like her to stop to help however she could. After seeing her, hearing her, his dreams had gotten worse. The pain of losing her was fresher now that there was no time between them. The Maker had given him another chance and she had gone gallivanting through the Hinterlands.

He took a deep breath, trying to focus on the field reports Leliana had sent him and a few requests from nobles in the area from Josephine but his mind wandered back to the Herald. Nialla Lavellan was someone who attacked every issue head on. For a mage, she certainly acted much more like a warrior.

No. Shaking his head caused his headache to flare but it would be better than going to sleep thinking of her again. Having her in his head at night, only to have her ripped away in his dreams, was driving him mad.

His hands trembled with the memory of her body being flush with his when he would dance with her.

~

Nialla

“One more day’s riding.” Cassandra estimated as they all sat around the fire.

“Having good mounts certainly does make things easier.” Nialla said absently as she manipulated the fire.

“The hallas aren’t considered good mounts?” Varric asked, eating some dried meat from his pack with the remainder of the ale.

Nialla scrunched her nose at this as she looked at the strange dwarf. “The Dalish don’t use halla like humans use horses. They are not meant to be ridden.”

Varric shrugged, “Too bad, I think the Dalish are probably the only race skinny enough to be able to ride them.”

Lightning cracked overhead, making Nialla flinch. “Are you scared of lightning, Herald?” Cassandra enquired. She couldn’t hate the woman for calling her that. To the Seeker it was a title of respect. Still, it felt wrong that a Dalish would be the Herald for the wife of a Maker she did not believe in.

“No, not lightning. Storms just make the air feel…charged.” Nialla said absently. She had stopped playing with the fire.

Solas seemed to understand this, “It would be like trying to fight with an off balance sword, or shoot a weighted arrow. Magic during a storm, especially offensive, takes a bit more…practice. And every storm is different.”

“I was unaware.” Cassandra said. Looking a bit sheepish that this had never even occurred to her.

Nialla smiled, enjoying that although different, they could still have these small round-table discussions with one another. At the first few drops of rain her smile fell, “Bed time then?” Solas chuckled as he stood and used the water in the air to douse the fire.

They all nodded their agreements, going to their separate tents.

She dreamed of Cullen. Of course she did. Solas had given her a few things to try in the Fade and this time when she reached across the barrier she fell through.

The demon at Cullen’s side startled and turned to her, just as the man himself did. Nialla stood up, taking a moment to adjust to the feeling of vertigo. “Roslyn, what…” Cullen turned his gaze to her look-a-like, who now looked much more demon-y than before. He drew his sword and stepped in front of the Herald.

~

Cullen

“You really think you can hurt me with that little stick of yours, Cullen?” Her lyrical voice was distorted and angry as the demon wrapped a clawed hand around his blade, turning it to wood that burned away. He dropped it instantly, crying out as it singed his flesh.

The demon may as well have been naked for the amount of skin she showed and while her body was entrancing her face twisted with anger. She lunged at him.

A blue light glimmered before him, making the demon scream as she backed away. “Why are you even here, child? You have no right to intrude on our time like this.” The demon addressed the Herald, the woman who had just saved him from the oncoming demon. Unlike a soldier, a mage did not need a physical weapon to defend themselves or others.

“Stop messing with the people around me and I wouldn’t intrude on your twisted little torture sessions.” The mage shot back, cocking her hips and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

The demon snarled, “You will pay for that, mage.”

She laughed, “You sure you want to try that?” There was a confidence to her that he had never seen before, like no matter what the demon tried it would never be enough. The demon seemed to think the same thing because it bared its teeth, relenting and disappearing to another part of the fade.

“You are…real then?” He turned to her, feeling more awake than ever now as he brushed his hand over the marks on her lower lip.

This time when she laughed it was more of a nervous chuckle. “I’m not sure. Probably? As real as anything else in the Fade, I suppose.”

~

Nialla

The commander regarded her for a long moment before pulling her close and pressing his lips to hers in the gentlest kiss she had ever received. When he pulled back there were unshed tears in his eyes. “I am so sorry I could not protect you.” He kissed her again, this time more demandingly. She moaned as he ran his hand through her hair, pulling on it lightly.

When he licked her lips she opened to him. If she had known shems were so passionate she would have bedded one a long time ago. She ran her fingers through his curls, wanting more of him. But it was her turn to pull away, “I hardly need someone to protect me in the Fade but if this is how you want to apologize, please continue.” She had said it as a bit of a jest but something passed in his eyes, some realization.

“Maker, you’re…”

~

Cullen

He could feel his face heat. This was the Herald, not Roslyn. But Maker the way she had melted against him. A wave of embarrassment and need filled his body. Everything in him was telling him to go back to ravishing her mouth, maybe even work his way down her body and chase the lines of her tattoo beneath her clothing. His cock hardened at just the thought of having her but he shook himself. “No…”

This was worse than any desire demon. The moment he had touched her it was as if he could no longer control his desire. She was sweet and willing and, “No,”

When he repeated it this time he found himself sitting up on his cot, his heart beating madly against his ribs. As he fell back he could feel his erection rub against his smalls. He should have just taken her. It was only a dream after all. And this was not the first time he had thought about being intimate with the Herald but he would not be able to take being a fling with her.

If he were to sleep with her then he would become possessive. He already did not like thinking of her and the apostate together. Even before they left they had seemed to be warming up to each other.

He tried to focus on Roslyn as he palmed his erection but his mind was having none of it. Thoughts of the Herald consumed him, stripping her out of her leathers and robes to see every inch of her delicate skin. The feeling of her moaning into his kiss, the thought of her moaning his name as he explored every inch of her with his mouth, her fingers running through his short hair as she pleaded for more.

~

Nialla

They had the camp packed and were headed out at first light. Solas had his mount traveling beside her, both of them riding behind Cassandra and Varric. “Did it work this time, breaking the barrier between dreams?”

She turned red at the mention of her dream, the tips of her ears turning pink. “Yes, I think it had not worked with the other tricks because the demon was trying to keep me out.” She tried to sound clinical about it and Solas seemed either not to notice her embarrassment or – more likely – he did not wish to make her feel uncomfortable.

“Did it try to possess you?”

“No, it was fairly weak.”

“Was it trying to possess him?” Of course he knew it was the Commander.

“I…I don’t know. It seemed like it was trying to wear him down. Make him tired for some other reason.”

“Do you know why it has been taking your shape then?” This time he did not ignore her blush, “Was the commander trying to bed you?”

The color she turned could have rivaled the red on Cassandra’s shield, “I do not think the demon was mimicking me. He called it by another name.”

“Then what happened?” Solas pressed.

“I…do not think I should reveal another person’s dreams.” At his kicked puppy look she smiled at him, “Your council has been invaluable in this and there is no one else I feel like I might trust. Ma melava halani. Ma serannas, ma ghilan.”

He still seemed a little saddened at this, “I believe The Seeker and Varric have grown quite attached to you, da’vhenan.”

That was how Solas saw her, a da’vhenan with little legs and arms, helping without a thought for herself, giving everything to fix the wrongs of this world. He gave her far too much credit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ma melava halani. Ma serannas, ma ghilan. (You helped me. Thank you, my guide.)
> 
> da’vhenan (Little heat)
> 
> Translated using: http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Elven_language
> 
> This is how I'd like to format the rest of the story with the POV changes but if ya'll like it being just Cullen or would like it to be more Lavellan let me know. I really like the idea of Lavellan coming to Cullen's aid as a sort of role reversal because in the Fade your mind has to be stronger and Cullen is a little haggard for now.
> 
> Next chapter we get to see Cullen being an embarrassed wreck~


	3. A Brief Return and a Quick Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor's brief return to Haven only to leave again for Val Royeaux (thought it was pretty clear with the chapter head).

Cullen

When a few of the stable hands rushed to the front gate he had not thought much on it. Rylen had most of his attention, reporting on a new group of refugees that were set to arrive in a day’s time. He would have to start delegating the training soon. Their numbers were growing and there were too many with radically different needs.

He saw the apostate and Varric first, headed to the gates. His second in command noticed his distraction. “Commander, sir, would you like to discuss this another time? I am sure Lady Cassandra will want to call a meeting.”

“Of course, we will need to start re-organizing the training schedule.” He thought for a moment about this. “Why don’t you start making a list of those you would trust to train the soldiers properly and I will be able to work from there?”

Rylen nodded, “Right away, Commander.”

“Thank you, I will head to the Chantry then.” As he left Rylen to the training he could see Cassandra and Nialla walking, shoulders nearly touching as they spoke in quiet tones.

~

Nialla

“It is far too soon to decide anything.” Cassandra finally said dismissively. “We cannot do anything until we visit Val Royeaux.”

She sighed at this, Varric had no opinion and of course Solas would want to recruit the mages. There would likely be debate on which faction to pursue. Templars or Mages. When she let out an irritable sigh Cassandra relented, “It is not up to me, Herald. And even if it were I would not be able to decide. From what we saw in the Hinterlands both groups have fallen into chaos. Recruiting either will likely be an ordeal all its own.”

~

Cullen

He knew tensions had been getting high but the fact he had to step in between a confrontation that promised bloodshed was unthinkable. “Knight Captain-…“

“That is not my title. We are not Templars any longer. We are all part of the Inquisition.” He was too aware of Chancellor Roderick even before the man stepped up. The man would likely run back to Val Royeaux and tell everyone how volatile and brutish the Inquisition was. Oh well, it would be Lady Josephine’s problem in any case. “Back already, Chancellor? Haven’t you done enough?” He could understand his men being on edge. They were fighting for a cause and no one knew for certain if they would even succeed. Roderick was doing precious little besides running his mouth.

“I’m curious, Commander, how your Inquisition and its “Herald” will restore order as you’ve promised.”

Typical, he was questioning the Inquisition. The Commander wanted to point out that the Chantry weren’t the ones who helped the refugees in the Hinterlands. The Chantry weren’t the ones with the ability to close the breach. The Chantry had done the sum total of stamping its foot and whining when the Templars stopped listening to them. “Of course you are.” The last thing he needed to do was lose his temper in front of his men, and the Chancellor was not nearly enough of a nuisance to break his control over his mouth. “Back to your duties, all of you.”

~

Nialla

She saw the exchange between Cullen and the Chancellor. “Would it be too much to hope that we might sneak around them? Avoid the Chancellor? I was hoping he wouldn’t be back so soon.”

Cassandra smiled at this, “You are the Herald, you have nothing to fear.”

“Besides making an ass of myself.” Nialla murmured. If it had been Solas at her side he would have heard, but Cassandra missed her comment.

Stealing herself, she approached Cullen and Roderick, trying to keep her pulse steady to avoid the blush threatening to tent the tips of her pointed ears. “The mages and Templars were already at war, now they’re blaming each other for the Divine’s death.” And the mages in Redcliffe were of course mortified that the people might turn on them. Being stuck in Circles their whole lives, away from the populace, did not engender trust whereas the Templars had the upper hand. They saved people from demons and maleficarum. They were heroes in the eyes of the people.

“Which is why we require a proper authority to guide them back to order.” For another 200 years or so until the cycle inevitably repeated itself. Sure, cause that sounded like the optimal plan.

“Who, you? Random clerics who weren’t important enough to be at the Conclave?” Oh, damn, he’s got you there, friend. She had a wolfish grin on her face at that comment. She nodded at Cassandra, telling her to go on to the War Room without her.

“The rebel Inquisition and its so called “Herald of Andraste”? I think not.” She chuckled at that, if the worse thing this man could think was to call them rebels then he would have to choose a new religious practice. Cassandra had explained some of the Chantry’s stories. Andraste herself was a rebel.

“I don’t know, I think we’re as functional as any young family.” She had to interrupt, if only to tell Cullen they were having a meeting.

“And how many young families are ready to tear each other’s throats out?”

When she laughed the Chancellors face turned red, for entirely different reasons than hers had moments ago, “Um? All of them?” She knew this was true enough for the Dalish, having to spend so much time together, isolated; tensions were bound to get high. From what she had seen, it was the same for the shem. “Cassandra was just about to call a meeting.” She directed the last sentence at Cullen.

The man had look decidedly more uncomfortable standing with her than he had been stepping in the middle of a fight. “Of course, I will be right behind you.”

“I could walk you there, make sure you aren’t ambushed by any more trivial clerics.”

~

Cullen

He couldn’t help but smirk at that. Of course she had caught the whole exchange. Not wanting to make a fool of himself he tried to keep a cool head, “It would be a pleasure.”

Her already wide grin grew devious, “Well,” She nodded, “Good day Chancellor.” After coming back from the field for so long he had expected her to look far more haggard than she did. She looked polished almost, like the time away from Haven was a vacation.

“You know if you were going to ogle me you could at least be discreet about it, Commander.”

“I…” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease some of the tension as he averted his eyes, looking at anything else now. “Ogling…was not my intent.”

At this she stopped her pace and turned her body to face him fully, “Then tell me, Commander, what is your intent?”

His face was red. It had to be for how hot he suddenly felt, remembering her melting into him like a contented cat. Soft and warm and sweet, “I just…I am glad you appear to be well after being in the field so long, Herald.”

“I got a very good night’s rest.”

If his face was not red before, it was now. Even in the dim light of the Chantry. “Good,” Was all he managed to say as he continued walking to the War Room. She easily fell in step beside him, making little noise, padding along on bare feet.

~

Nialla

Josephine, Leliana, and Cassandra were all already gathered. Cullen went to his customary spot between the ladies and she stood beside Cassandra. The Commander still had a faint blush on his cheeks and she had little doubt that they had shared the same dream now. Still, it had only been a kiss. Had the Commander thought further on it upon waking or was he really so shy that a kiss would ruffle him so?

“Having the Herald address the clerics is not such a terrible idea.” The Lady Ambassador said, adding on to whatever Leliana had said before that. She was barely listening, caught up in her thoughts. She would wind up doing whatever she was bade, regardless. Such seemed her lot in life, whether it was the Keeper sending her to the Conclave or the Inquisition sending her to Val Royeaux.

“You can’t be serious.” It was the first time Cullen had spoke since they had all gathered and she smiled at the way he said this, a little condescending in his tone. She couldn’t fight her smile as she remembered Varric saying they just kept the Commander around for his looks.

She was not worried. She was of the people. Though she was assured that nobles sometimes hardly counted as people. It was always so dark in the War Room. Was that required? Still, she liked the way it cast everything in a more sinister tone.

“Should we just ignore the danger to the Herald?”

“Perhaps we should ask her.”

Crap, that was her cue to say something. What were they talking about again? Right, confronting the clerics. “I’m more worried that it won’t get us anywhere.” She liked plans, being able to move forward was the priority. They needed someone to help with the Breach and the Chantry was useless at this stage. Templars of mages. There was little prayer could do considering their “Maker” had turned his gaze from his flock long ago.

Wasn’t she always in danger? Weren’t they all? “I will go with her.”

She nearly laughed at this. Did they think she was just going to waltz into Val Royeaux on her own? Creators, she could barely point out its general location on a map. She would probably wind up somewhere in the Hissing Wastes had she tried to travel alone.

“What choice do we have, Leliana? Right now we can’t approach anyone for help with the Breach.”

She listened more attentively when Cassandra spoke because it had been what they rehearsed. Nialla still felt uncomfortable in the War Room, used to following orders rather than giving them. Not that her suggestions were thoughtless, just she did not feel entirely welcome in a room filled with shem.

They were all fighting for the same cause, she knew, but it still made her uneasy. When this was said and done would they seek to destroy the “rebel Inquisition”? Would the people who called her “Herald” ask for her head because they believed she killed the Divine?

~

Cullen

The look the Herald had throughout the meeting worried him. She was a million miles away for most of it, as though she did not care where she was sent. When it was all said and done they had decided to send her to Val Royeaux because of course they did. It was logical. That did not mean he had to like it. She had had the rest of that day to rest and prepare and then she was off again as quickly as she had come back.

He would have liked to speak with her before she left, if only to hear her voice more. She had always been sarcastic but the spark in her eyes when she looked at him was less flirty and more curious. As if he were some complex puzzle. The thought was maddening, she was the one that fell out of the Fade and back into his life.

If she had questions for him she could simply ask them outright. She chewed her lip when she was thinking. It was cute that she was so serious. He absently wondered, his mind now far away from the training schedule he had been drafting, if she liked being bitten – or biting.

Shutting his eyes he rubbed the back of his neck, reminding himself she was the Herald of Andraste, not his teenage crush. Summarizing Roslyn like that made him angry with himself. She had been so much more than that. He had wanted to leave the Templar Order for her, start a family. Something no one in the Order had any real hope of.

If he had simply taken her away from Kinloch, away from the Circle and Uldred then perhaps… It was futile to consider this but he could not shake the remnants of the demons from his head. They had copied her. The sway of her hips, the curve of her smile, and they begged him, pleaded with him to help them. Promising…and when that didn’t work…torture.

He shook his head, attempting to clear it. If the memories haunted him even now they would be far worse if he tried to sleep. Still, he could not keep his eyes open forever. Before turning in for the night he prayed to the Maker for a dream at least half as good as last night’s. At least that had not been all terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I wouldn't do the copy dialogue thing but I felt it necessary you all know the Inquisitor is sassy af. Also Cullen being snarky is amusing. Cause reasons.
> 
> I promise there will be more Inquisitor/Cullen interaction once they get to Skyhold. Pinky promise.
> 
> If you have comments be sure to drop them in the comments section, even if it's telling me this is awful cause that means you read it so ha.


	4. Orlais

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting new party members and letting Cullen know he's not crazy.

Cullen

He had seen the reports, so had Leliana and Josephine. The Templars had left the Chantry. Leliana’s scouts were already tracking them. The Herald was on her way back to Haven after having recruited to more allies. Cassandra and Solas had returned together two days ago.

Cassandra had been as gruff and brisk as she normally was but Solas had taken some strange interest in him. He did not like that the apostate was free to roam about without anyone to watch him. Cullen shook his head. He was being paranoid. Since Kirkwall he had to force himself not to see every mage as a threat. They were just like any other person, especially since killing demons was considered a daily occurrence. It was almost like demons had lost their bite. They were less of a threat now and more of a simple nuisance, like bandits.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and he rubbed at them, trying to focus on the recruits’ forms. Solas was watching him again, he knew.

~

Nialla

Sera and Vivienne did not get along in the slightest. Sera was a rogue, an elf, someone who liked doing as she wished. Vivienne liked order, although she was a mage she supported the Chantry whole-heartedly. Still, they had one thing in common at the very least. “So what’s your angle, Herald?” Sera asked, talking with her mouth full and drawing a disgusted look from Vivienne.

“I’m sorry?”

“Y’know, what do you want? What’s in it for you?” Sera clarified.

There was nothing in the Inquisition for her, not anything as cut-and-dry as Sera was talking about. “The breach, the rifts…the chaos, it hurts people. So far, nothing else closes them. Nothing but this.” She held out her hand and the mark glowed and rumbled beneath her skin like molten metal. She was honestly terrified of everything she had been doing, but she would never back down.

“So what will you do when it’s all over?”

She laughed, “I don’t know. Haven’t thought that far ahead. Probably go to the nearest tavern and drink myself stupid, pass out on the floor and sleep for a few days.” It was a jest but she could feel everything weighing on her. She had never been so tired in her life.

“You will be undoubtedly be in a position of some influence once is all said and done.” Vivienne commented.

Nialla laughed at that, “Excuse me, Madame Vivienne, but I never even knew about the Circles until my Keeper taught me of them, even now I do not fully understand them. But mages need somewhere to learn amongst their own kind. There are so many humans. With the Dalish we have our Keeper teach us. It is not my place to pass judgment on a system I do not even understand. From what Josephine tells me though the Chantry is a unifying organization throughout Thedas. People need something to stand for.”

“But you do not worship the Maker. Do you even believe in his existence?”

That gave her a pause. “I don’t know if it even matters. They say I am the Herald of Andraste. They rally for the Inquisition because they say the Maker blessed me. My opinion is unnecessary.”

Varric piped in at that, “Don’t let Cassandra hear you say that, Nialla, she is the most devout person I know.”

“Haven tomorrow, yeah?” Sera asked, finishing off her food.

“Yeah.”

~

Cullen shuddered whenever she broke through the barrier now, he could feel her slipping into his part of the Fade. The demons hardly bothered him now but tonight she slipped in because she could feel his distress. He was working, even in his dreams. His shoulders looked stiff as he sat at his desk.

“Commander,” She called to him gently, letting her mind reshape their surroundings into a clear night sky, a place from her memories, a clearing that she liked to visit when her clan was in the Free Marches.

He shivered at his name, his hand massaging the back of his neck as he continued reading some report. He would run himself into the ground if he kept working nonstop like this. So she moved to his desk, leaning against it to his left, facing him.

~

Cullen

She was a vision leaning against his desk, her brows furrowing in a way he knew was a mark of disapproval. Still he smiled up at her. “Hello there.” He let his gaze roam over her slowly. Dalish mages had much more revealing attire than what would have been acceptable in the Circle Tower. Her bear thigh revealed by the cut of her leathers, the wraps on her legs starting just above her knee. He wanted to run his hand along the smooth skin of her thigh.

“You work far too hard, Cullen.”

“Always,” The air smelled fresh, crisp. It was pleasantly warm and his body relaxed as he studied her face. He had never spoken to Roslyn about leaving the Order and suddenly it was the only thing he could think of to talk to her about. “What if I didn’t though?”

A look of confusion crossed her face. “What do you mean?”

He could not remember making the conscious decision to get up but suddenly he was standing. She had straightened, the desk vanishing behind her as they stood before each other. “What if we ran away? Maker damn the Templars and the Circle.”

When she averted her eyes he brought his hand up to her cheek, gently tilting her face back. She was about to say something but he quickly interrupted her, “I would always protect you. They would never find us.” His free hand slipped to her lower back, pulling her in so that her body was flush with his. He let his forehead rest against hers as he watched her eyes, his imploring her to agree.

~

Nialla

Creators he felt good against her, even if it was simply in the Fade. “Cullen, who am I?” She knew she was supposed to be playing the part of Roslyn but she still had no idea who the woman had been. She was in her Dalish armor. She did not hide her vallaslin. Still, he only saw what he wanted to see.

He laughed nervously at that, “You mean other than the love of my life?”

When she gasped he leaned down to kiss her. She wanted to enjoy it but the passion wasn’t hers to take. When he pulled away she put her hands on either side of his face. “What happened to me, Cullen?”

His amber eyes darkened at that, a shadow passing over them as he lifted his head. He was focusing on something over her shoulder. When she turned her head she could see his own memories reforming the Fade around them. His hands fell to his sides and when she turned fully away from him he re-appeared in what she now recognized as Kinloch Hold.

~

Cullen

“If you want to save any of the mages then you need to stay with us.” The Lieutenant barked at him. But he had to make sure she was okay. This section was secure. He needed to go up. She had been called into a meeting. Uldred would kill her, or worse.

A few of the mages had turned on them, saying that Uldred would free every mage in the tower. They’d had to block their magic. They had been blood mages, mad with power, saying that they deserved to rule over the Chantry.

His friend saw the conflict in his eyes. “We have to go up anyway to get to Uldred. If you charge off on your own you will be no help to anyone.”

Cullen nodded but he could feel something pull at him. He would be too late. She was going to die. The abominations were straightforward enough. Mages possessed by demons, too far gone to save. Their bodies were twisted and demented. His stomach turned when he looked at them but he had to make sure she was not one of them. Their faces were broken and torn and warped but still recognizable. He almost wished they weren’t.

They had pushed, tore through their own men.

All the demons pulled at them, wearing them down. They could kill some but they were left weaker after every one.

“Cullen!” Roslyn was sweating, her staff in her hands as she defended herself against a drake. “Thank the Maker. Uldred’s gone mad, we have to get out of here.”

Yes, yes they had to leave. He had to make sure she was alright.

“Greagoir would have blocked the door by now, we have to get to Uldred.” The Lieutenant told her firmly.

What in the nine hells was he talking about? They had to get somewhere safe.

“No, we have to evacuate the tower.”

“No one is leaving this tower until the demons have been dealt with.”

“It’ll be impossible. Better to get everyone to safety, bar the tower later.” Roslyn’s body was tense and he could swear she was trembling.

His friend placed a hand on him, “Rutherford, you need to get away from her.” His voice was even and quiet.

“You’re really going to put all of your men at risk? You’ll all die.” She turned to him and he could see something…wrong in her eyes. “Cullen, they’re going to get you killed.”

His brain was wrapped in a fog, pulling him to her. His mind was screaming that something was wrong but everything was so far away. He had to protect her. His friend’s grip tightened, “Cullen, would Roslyn ask you to leave so many to die? Would she abandon the Circle?”

No. No, she wouldn’t. It was why he never acted on his feelings for her. She would only have turned him away.

Roslyn’s face contorted and he stumbled back as she transformed into a desire demon. “Meddling human, you should not have done that.” The demon forced her clawed hand into his friend’s chest, making the man gasp and cough up blood.

~

Nialla

Forcing the memory away was difficult now that he was so consumed by it. “Cullen.”

“No, you’re dead, you died in the tower. Get away from me.” He was in his Templar armor again, his sword drawn.

“Look at me Commander.” She tried to relax but she knew what dying here would do to her. “I am not Roslyn.”

He came back to himself slowly, his sword slipping into nothingness. “Herald…”

She nodded, “Yes.”

“How…how do I know it’s you? Not some demon,” He had lost his fight now, now he was simply scared. There was no way for him to know what was real here. Especially since he was so haunted by demons.

“The demons want to hurt you, make you weak. They muddle your mind. Just think,” She smiled gently, sitting down on the soft grass. “If you don’t want to talk you don’t have to. I am only here because I thought I might help you relax.”

He sat down beside her, looking at the stars. “How would you do that?”

“Give you something else to focus on in your dreams.”

Cullen laughed at that, “Like memories of Roslyn?”

Nialla turned red, “Well, I am sorry about that. Perhaps you just need time out of your own head.”

“Where else would I go, if not my own dreams?”

“Perhaps I can share mine?” At his quizzical look she simply smiled. Her hand moved up to his chest from where it rested in her lap. “Lay down.”

He let himself lie back as he looked up into the night sky. Streaks of light shot across the sky. “Shooting stars?”

Nialla focused and remembered a lullaby. It played in the trees, echoing in the night gently along with the sounds of the insects and owls. “Elgara vallas, da’len,”

~

Cullen

Though he knew the lullaby was meant to be Elven he could understand it perfectly. Like he knew the language in the same way that he knew his own. It made sense did not need to be translated.

And though it was foreign it was also nostalgic, like he was hearing it and reacting to it as if she were giving him herself. If she were a demon then he would have given himself wholly to her. The sense of peace in the nostalgic lullaby was healing. He doubted demons could make something feel so emotional like this.

It was only when her fingers traced his cheek that he realized he was crying. “I’m sorry, I…” He moved to sit up but she held him down gently with her hand that was still against his chest.

“There is no need to apologize.” She lay down next to him, nuzzling against him and melting into his side like a contented cat.

He held her close, wrapping his arm around her as he kept his eyes on the sky.

~

It was perhaps an hour before he had to wake up and he relaxed into his cot, reflecting on his dream. If only they could all be so relaxing.

“Commander, are you awake?” Solas’ voice drifted in from the other side of his tent. Cullen sighed, sitting up and pulling on a shirt.

“What is it?”

“I would like a word with you.”

Pulling on his socks and his boots Cullen stood up and slipped out of his tent. “What is it?”

“It is about the Herald.” Solas gestured at the path that led off towards the mountains. He wanted to go for a walk, fewer prying eyes.

“Has something happened?” He asked, walking beside the mage along the path.

The corner of the apostate’s mouth turned up before he let his expression fall back into the ancient mask he wore. “Not as such. I was just…concerned about your intentions with her.”

“My intentions?” What was he? Her father?

“Well, you seem…it is like you are seeing someone else when you look at her. Has she spoken to you yet about her dreams?”

Cullen paled at that, pausing. “What about her dreams?”

Solas’ eyes had never felt so invasive before. It was as though he could read everything from his expression. “She insured me that she would speak to you on the matter. It is not important. How did you sleep?”

“Ara ma’athlan vhenas.” He could see the tension in Solas as the apostate turned to face him. “The dreams, she really is in them, isn’t she?”

“Do you even know what you just said?”

Cullen nodded, “I can’t…it’s like the words are a part of me, their meaning does not need to be translated for me to understand. I know…bits from other languages but this, those words, are not a foreign language to me.”

“How?” Solas was suddenly very close, invading his space and studying him like some ancient text. “She should not be able to do that.” He looked away, muttering to himself as he continued walking. Cullen quickly kept pace with him.

“Why is she invading my dreams at all?” When the apostate didn’t answer Cullen grabbed his arm. “Solas.”

The man looked at him. He rarely saw Solas with any other emotion than schooled or amused but now he was worried. “What?” He repeated his question. “I would not consider it an invasion, Commander. She is worried about everyone. With the veil so thin it is easier for demons to pull at people in their dreams, especially you. From what she lets on demons seem especially interested in you.”

His jaw tightened at that. Of course they would be. It was not the first time he had heard this. All of the Templars who survived Kinloch had nightmares but they rarely ever let on. Meredith would have likely put him in jail or worse if she had known demons already had their sights on him.

“She should not be able to pass her memories onto you.” Solas told him, more telling himself this. “I…need to speak with her.”

~

Nialla

“Creators Solas, I can’t be in Haven for two minutes without someone needing something, can I?” She was joking. He knew Leliana had called for a meeting and she needed to leave soon. Still, Solas was a comfort to her. Though Sera was an elf she wasn’t – as the rogue would say – an “elfy” elf. Speaking to Solas was like going home to her clan.

“Da’vhenan, we need to speak. It is about your adventures in the Fade with the Commander.” When she nodded he continued, “You…he knows Elvhen.”

She blinked, “I…showed him my memory of a lullaby.”

“You can shape his dreams?”

“More easily than my own. It is like daydreaming when I am awake.”

Solas seemed to consider this, “You are closer to the Fade than I thought. If I may…I would like to watch you while you sleep. I would like to see if it affects the mark.”

“Of course.”

~

“Then you are headed to the Storm Coast tomorrow?” Solas spoke quietly in the darkness. She had just left the meeting and crossed paths with Krem, who said the Bull’s Chargers were waiting for them in the coast. Not to mention the Inquisition forces that had gone missing there.

Cassandra, Sera, and Varric would be accompanying her, “Of course, I would loathe to be idle.” Solas chuckled, a warm, comforting sound. She was dead tired and her eyelids fought to close. She let them win, her breath evening out as she slipped into the Fade.


	5. Storm Coast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit more Fade filler to keep the story moving along while we bide our time in Haven.

Cullen

“I was hoping I could talk to you while we were awake for once, you know.” He was not angry, just amused. She hardly had any time for anything while she was in Haven. He considered himself lucky to be the Commander of the Inquisition so he could at least hear her voice in the war room. He could get reports on her progress; make sure she was not dead at the very least.

Tonight she was perched in a tree, her legs swinging freely as she looked down at him. “Why is that?”

He lifted his hands, giving her an offer to jump down. His heart nearly stopped when she did. He caught her easily. She was light, even for an elf. “I wanted to know why you come here.”

“I want to,” Her voice was breathless and her face heated at her admission. “I also thought it might help you sleep better, but…that is not the whole reason. I rarely get to do anything I want.”

Her entire life now was dedicated to the Inquisition, serving a Maker she may not even truly believe in. “You are very young for such a burden.”

“Oh? And how old were you when you dedicated your life to the Order, Ser Templar?”

“Thirteen,” She had a valid point. “I would have enlisted sooner if they had let me.”

“That is…very young.”

“Yes.” He contemplated what his life might have been like if he had not gone to the Order but she was quickly pulling his focus back to her.

“Solas spoke to you, about the dreams?” He nodded. “I’ve been meaning to. It is just that I have no time…”

“I understand.” And he did, Leliana and Josephine were constantly sending her out. He hated that she had to be in the field, so far off. “Though I do wish we could speak more. I miss you.”

She laughed, “Commander, is it truly me that you miss?”

He turned red, his hand rubbing the back of his neck to relieve some of the tension he felt. “I am sorry, Herald.”

“Please don’t call me that. My name is Nialla.”

“You do not like your title?”

She shrugged, “I don’t even understand it. And it is a lot to live up to.”

Of course, the Dalish didn’t worship the Maker. It was a hard thought to process considering Roslyn had been so devout. “Nialla,” He liked the way her name felt on his tongue, made him think of calling to her as he stripped her. “The first time I saw you here… After you confronted the demon…”

“You thought I was someone else.” Nialla nodded, looking away from him. There were halla roaming the field some ways away.

He had thought she was Roslyn, but even after he had realized who she was he had still wanted her. Even now he wanted to feel her soft skin under his rough hands. “The last time you were here, you made it feel like your memories were mine. Is that why I felt the way I did that first time?” His thoughts shifted and his hands tightened on her waist, she was manipulating him, just like a demon.

“What are you talking about? What did you feel?” He had to force his hands to let her go as he turned away from her. A flicker of red in the forest caught his attention. “Cullen?”

Dreams were strange things, he knew he wanted to follow that figure through the woods but he could not recall starting to do so. Now he found himself cutting through the trees, stumbling into a very small clearing. Trees shielded the ground from the sky and shadows played eagerly when the wind would rustle the leaves.

“You must relax, da’len.” The voice was cadenced and melodic, wrapping his senses as surely as humidity surrounded his body.

The young elf was sitting on her knees in front of the man, “Hahren,” She was crying, simple tears that stained her cheeks but her voice was even. Magic glimmered around her, at war with itself.

“You cannot go back until you control this, da’len. You must let this hatred go.” The elf addressed as hahren was trying to stay calm but there was worry in his eyes.

“What if I can’t?” She was looking absently at her hands. Even as a child he could still recognize her. Nialla had a quiet anger, even so young. He could feel it building, bubbling up in her mind. He had never been so fearful of a child before.

The older elf took her hands. “You can and you will. You will not be consumed by this, da’len.”

“Cullen,” This scene vanished and Nialla was there, her face lined with her tattoos, looking concerned. “You shouldn’t run off like that.”

“Why were you crying?”

When she shut her eyes and took a deep breath he could almost see the years fall from her shoulders as she shuddered. When she opened her eyes again she seemed to steel herself. “It isn’t important, the Fade plays tricks.”

She was shutting him out. She had invaded his dreams, his memories, and she was shutting him out? “That was you.” He could feel anger beat at his emotions.

Nialla nodded, once, watching him warily.

“That was your memory.”

Again she nodded.

“Everything here, they're your memories.”

“Yes.”

“Then why were you crying?” He wanted her to trust him even as he wanted to keep his own secrets locked away. The hypocrisy of his desires was not lost on him.

The way the Fade swirled around them made him dizzy. He focused on Nialla. She had her eyes shut but he could see the tension in her easily. The images swimming around them were noisy and chaotic. He realized suddenly that she was trying to hide them.

He almost didn’t notice when her tension shifted to pain. He had felt exactly how she looked on multiple occasions whenever he was trying to not remember the visions the demons had shown him, the reasons he had scars he would like to never think about again.

Just as when she was younger, silent tears stained her cheeks as a silent apology passed her lips.

~

Nialla

“Lethallan,” She could feel a gentle hand grace her cheek. It was warm and comforting and she groggily pulled herself out of the fade. She was at once on edge, not recognizing the cabin around her. “Aneth ara,” Solas said calmly, his hand absently running through her hair. The smooth Elvish was at once a comfort to her frazzled nerves.

“Abelas, lethallin.” She tried to relax, simply letting the sorrow take hold of her. There was no point in fighting her tears. It would only tear her apart from within if she did. “Some memories are more…unpleasant than others.”

“Did you slip into another’s dream?” It was pitch black but she could feel his eyes on her, even with her own closed.

She nodded, “Yes, the Commander’s. I was in control but then he ran off, saw something I did not want him to.”

“When we open ourselves up to another it is difficult to do so without opening up entirely.” He replied sagely.

“You have spied on other’s dreams, how do you keep your mind to yourself?”

He chuckled, “It is not something easy, lethallan. It takes practice.”

Better for Solas to see her hatred for shem rather than Cullen. It was not a hatred that lingered, but she had done things she was not necessarily proud of because of it. “Then teach me. Please.”

“Why?” He would never turn down a willing student, she knew.

“I cannot show them everything, lethallin.” He should know better than any that there were some things in one’s life that needed to be private.

“So you would show me instead?” He sounded mystified by that.

She sat up and faced him, crossing her legs, “I trust you, Solas, more so than anyone else here. I know it may be foolish but...” She could not explain it in words. Perhaps it was simply because he was the only other elf, that he seemed older than even the Keeper. “Please.”

~

Cullen

She had been at the Storm Coast less than a week and already she had recruited the Bull’s Chargers and the Blades of Hessarian for the Inquisition. Leliana was exceptionally pleased to have eyes and ears on the coast, especially ones that already knew the terrain.

Everything had been normal and she had planned to go to Redcliffe to meet with the mages soon but then there was a report from the Fallow Mire. A patrol had been taken and the Avvar demanded a duel. The fact that their men had been taken was enough reason for him to be on edge and if that is what people wished to believe then he would not counter the notion. However his unrest was more of a personal matter. He had not seen or felt Nialla in his dreams since she had run from him.

Demons no longer haunted his sleep, at least for the time being, but he was still concerned. Though he had no excuse he was constantly on edge. He often found himself re-reading her missives if only to have some connection to her.

“Commander?” Leliana’s voice sounded from outside his tent. He jolted at the sound, having not heard her approach. Then again he never heard Leliana approach unless she wanted him to.

“Yes?” At his reply she entered his tent, he was accustomed to people coming and going as they pleased so the fact she had announced herself struck him as out of the ordinary.

She eyed the report in his hands, “I was looking for one of Nialla’s reports, from the Hinterlands.”

He cleared his throat, feeling like a child caught snooping where he should not have been. He tried to be as casual about it as possible as he placed the parchment back into the folder he had compiled. “These should be all the reports from the Herald’s trip to the Hinterlands.” At her raised brow he fumbled to explain. “I thought it would be simpler to keep them compiled, should we need them later.” He easily handed the file to her.

The spymaster’s lips twitched slightly, fighting back a smile. He had not seen her in a good mood since the Conclave, “Is something amusing, Leliana?” He was not oblivious to the heat in his cheeks and he hoped the dim light would hide it, but by her expression he doubted it did.

“Not at all, Commander. The Herald is due back within the hour. As she is to leave promptly for the Fallow Mire I suggest we have a short meeting, before she arrives. Best to get everything squared away as quickly as possible, yes?”

“Of course.”

Leliana nodded and took her leave.

He let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding. He would see her within the hour and then she would be off again.

~

She was pleasant and open and as he watched her speak with Vivienne he forgot that she was not Roslyn. It was inconsiderate to eavesdrop but in his conversation with Mother Giselle he could not help but hear how Nialla had the upmost respect for the Chantry and the Circles.

He found himself slipping out of the Chantry mere seconds after her, strictly by coincidence. His eyes followed her of their own accord, tracing her movements as she slipped through the buildings to Solas’ side.

Tracing his way on the opposite path he wound his way back to the training area, noting that The Iron Bull had taken up in a tent outside the main gates. The qunari nodded at him in greeting – one he returned – and then proceeded to talk to his second-in-command.

The thought of qunari in the camp, especially a spy, made his skin crawl far more than the presence of any mage. 

~

Nialla

Solas had seen it in her dreams. The reason she refused to accept the position as the Keeper’s first, pulled away from her clan, been sent to the Conclave, and thought herself unworthy of being the Herald. She was searching his face for the pity, the apology that was bound to pass his lips. 

He took her hand gently and brought it to his lips, holding her eyes with his as he did so. “I think you are incredible, da’vhenan, to have been able to separate the actions of a few from those of the many, to harbor no hatred in your heart. Many of Our People hold hatred that is not even theirs.”

“It would be unfair to judge others like Cassandra or Vivienne. They are good people.” Her jaw tightened at the memory of her anger. Even in her dreams she could feel her magic trying to rip everything around her apart. Life was too fragile, to beautiful, to allow sorrow to overshadow everything.

Still, the child that she had been reminded her ever so slightly of Solas, angry with others and himself. Though she could not quite pinpoint why he gave her this impression.

“The others are pushing for us to ally with the Templars or the mages soon.”

Solas sighed, “You are well aware of my opinions on the matter, da’vhenan.”

“And magic left unchecked is better? The Templars are trained, disciplined.”

“So the mages have less of a right to live? I know you were raised among the Dalish but surely you must know of the hatred that the Chantry preaches for all those with the gift of magic. They treat it as some…affliction that must be purged.”

“You know I don’t think that, lethallin.” She could not fight the frustrated tears that pricked at her eyes. Solas knew more about her than anyone. “I only want to close the breach. This mark will likely kill me and the people here look at me as though I am their savior.” She scoffed at the idea, feeling tightness in her chest at the pressure riding on her. “They expect miracles of me. Of an elf,” She said “elf” with the same sneer someone might use when talking about something disgusting or vulgar, “when they do not even consider us their equals.”

Solas softened, “Da’vhenan,”

Nialla shook herself, refusing to show any more weakness to any onlookers than she already had. “Ir Abellas, lethallin,” She always made sure to keep their native tongue soft as to not let others overhear.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

A sad smile graced her lips as she nodded her thanks. “I’ve got to go, urgent Inquisition business and all that.”

He let out a soft chuckle, “I will be with you should you have need of me.” He knew she would not be taking him on this trek. Still, he would come to her in the Fade should she call out to him. Having that assurance made a real smile take hold of her.

“Ma serannas,” She mouthed more than said, bowing slightly as she took her leave.

~

“So you and the hobo elf…” The Iron Bull started suggestively.

Varric – who was within earshot – howled with laughter at Bull’s description.

Nialla found herself laughing despite the rudeness of the comment, “What about him?”

“You two seem friendly.”

She knew what he was after but being Ben Hasrsath he could likely read her like an open book. “Well, I would hope I seemed friendly with everyone.” She turned to him, aware of the mischievous grin that took over her expression. “Aren’t we friends? If we aren’t I would very much like us to be.”

The obviously fake innocence made Varric laugh harder, so much so she was surprised he stayed upright in his saddle. “Aren’t you supposed to be Ben-Hassrath? I thought you guys were actually supposed to be good at your jobs.”

Bull shrugged noncommittally, “It’s a pretty easy job. I do some fighting, and drinking, and once in awhile I tell Par Vollen about it.”

“Heh, where’s the sneaking, plotting, and subtle machinations?”

“You do that, everyone knows you’re a spy. Drinking, fighting, writing notes, that’s all it really takes.”

“Shit, you’re the worst qunari ever, or the best. I can’t decide.”

Bull could play dumb all he wanted, she saw how he watched everything. Nothing escaped the qunari, not even her longing glance at the Commander. Cullen had been to preoccupied with his troops to notice her tracking him but Bull had given her a curious look the moment she had pulled her eyes away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, okay, still trying to get to Skyhold so we can get to the good stuff *cough* porn *cough* smut *cough*
> 
> We all know The Iron Bull is WAY smarter than he tends to let on and anyone who thinks the inquisitor doesn't notice that is 100% wrong (imo).
> 
> This is NOT for Sollavellan lovers, going to put that out there right now. Read the tags please. (I mean I'll probs edit them to include Dorian/Bull but still...).


	6. Fallow Mire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with the Avvar, Solas' temper, and recruiting Blackwall, plus a bit of awkward Cullen cause I mean why not, yeah?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little early for an update but I was dead to the world last week so I decided I'd make up for it.

Nialla

They had reached a good place to camp half way to their destination and everyone was ready for a well-deserved end to their day. Varric had been better company now that Cassandra didn’t mention Kirkwall every time she spoke to him. Bull would hit on just about anyone and between him and Varric they made Cassandra somewhat annoyed – which was an understatement. But it made her fight harder, probably imagining tearing them apart.

When she chuckled to herself Varric looked over at her, “Stop that, I don’t want to have to think of a new name for Chuckles.” Which was his nickname for Solas, apparently.

“I thought we had come to a unanimous consensus to call him ‘hobo elf’.” She quipped back at the dwarf.

He shrugged at that. “So there’s really nothing between you and him? You two seemed close.”

She turned a little red at that. “Solas could be close with everyone else but he’s too…” He was like the tides on the Storm Coast, wearing down everything he touched. “Stuck in his own head, maybe?” The man didn’t see the point in socializing with humans. He did not believe them to be below him, he just had no inherent interest in them.

“Hah, that’s one way to phrase it.” Varric agreed. “What about you? You’re not about the whole ‘elven glory’ thing?”

Nialla shook her head, “What glory? We are nomads, no place of our own. We have our own rules and our scouts and warriors have good training but shems outnumber us. We are not united because we fear drawing too much attention. We survive, same as everyone else.”

“Okay, what are ‘shems’? I get that that’s your term for humans…or…outsiders?” Varric shut whatever he had been writing to turn his full attention to her.

“You’ve heard the phrase before?”

“I’ve meant some Dalish near Kirkwall.”

Nialla nodded knowingly, “Merrill’s clan.”

Varric’s eyebrows rose at that, “You’ve read my book?”

Avoiding his question in favor of another as her face heated she replied, “Shem or shemlen is quick children. Honestly much of the meaning has been lost but is our term for humans. Much like durgen’len.”

“Durgen’len?” Varric repeated mystically to himself.

“Dwarves, children of the stone.”

The dwarf’s eyes widened, “That’s why Chuckles calls me ‘child of the Stone’?”

Nialla shrugged, “Yes, it is a way to show our respect. Dwarves have this…thing…about rocks. When your ancestors die they ‘return to the Stone’. It is not meant to be derogatory by nature.”

Varric shuddered, “Well can you ask him to cut it out?”

“You don’t like the thought of your ancestors living in the Stone?”

“No.” He grumbled, rising from his seat to go to his tent. “Goodnight, Herald.”

~

The Avvar were dealt with and Bull was still laughing to himself while she looked him over, mending the broken ribs without preamble. He grunted but whether in pain or thanks she couldn’t tell. Maybe both.

“Herald, a key.” Varric held it up and, doing what she could for Bull, stood up to walk over to the only other door in the place.

“Herald!” The scout bowed to her.

“We’ve dealt with the Avvar. Are any of you injured?”

“Everyone is fine, Herald, we can make our way back on our own.”

Cassandra cleared her throat, getting her attention. “Seems like someone is waiting for us.” She gestured to the front of the main hall of the castle.

~

Cullen

“We cannot sit idly by anymore.” Leliana had been pressing the issue more lately. At the Heralds insistence apparently, “The Herald has sent reports of the rifts re-opening. The Breach must be closed soon.”

“Then has she gone to meat with the mages?” Cullen tensed at the thought. They still had not had word from the Templars.

Josephine was the one to speak up, “No, the Herald believes we should focus our efforts on the Templars. Leliana and I have been gathering the support of some of the most influential noble families in Orlais.” Gathering? A very diplomatic term indeed considering Leliana’s idea of recruiting nobles is usually a threat or blackmail.

“So we are simply letting the Herald decide?” It did not sit well with him. They had been leaning more and more on the Herald to make decisions for them since they often could not come to an agreement themselves. There was always something to keep them busy but it fell on her to decide who would do what.

“I thought you would be more pleased with her decision, Commander.” Leliana always smiled when she spoke of the Herald to him, gathering information he did not want her to have.

He sighed and shook his head. “I am, so when will she return for the journey to Therinfal Redoubt?”

“Three days, but she will stay until the nobles have gathered there.”

~

Nialla

Of course he was pissed, she didn’t blame him for that. “Lethallin, please understand…”

“I understand perfectly, Herald.” Solas barked at her, making her jolt, the images playing around them stuttering to a stand still as she focused all of her attention on him. 

He was furious with her, she tried to relax, and he had every right to feel betrayed. He offered his advice, his council, and she ignored him. “You are not seeing this clearly.” Her tone was gentle, begging him to calm down.

He knew he was being unreasonable. She could see as much by the way he carried himself. Something passed over him and she could see a flicker in his eyes. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and relaxing his stance. “Forgive me, lethallan. You are fully capable of making your own decisions. I…” He hesitated, letting his gaze flicker to the frozen forest around them. “I only sought to caution you. You will be vulnerable facing Templars and I would be of no great help. It…pains me that I cannot be at your side for this.”

And there it was, the real reason behind his temper. Like her, Solas had little concern for human affairs and their holy callings. “You would not go with me?”

“If you wished it I would walk to the ends of time with you. However letting me assist you in this…I would only be more of a hindrance should things go poorly.”

“You believe they will?”

He looked off to the trees, now that she relaxed the breeze swept through them once more, rustling the branches above. “I believe something is stirring. Something larger than we may have imagined.”

Nialla laughed at that, “More so than a massive hole in the sky threatening to engulf Thedas and rip it and the Fade apart?”

Solas shook his head, “You make light of a dire situation.” It was meant to be a warning, to admonish her, but the smile on his lips betrayed his amusement.

“No…but I do not see the point in chaos. If humor keeps people calm, rational, then why not?”

~

They had picked up Blackwall at Leliana’s request. She realized soon after that she should have sent The Iron Bull back to the main camp in the Hinterlands instead of Cassandra.

“You know the thing I miss about Par Vollen?” Oh, this ought to be good. Bull was addressing Blackwall as she and Varric sorted through their supplies. “Bananas.” Bananas? She thought to herself but kept her mouth shut, giving Varric a look that she hoped conveyed her confusion. The dwarf merely shook his head, staying out of the conversation. “They’re bigger, less squishy, and bendier.”

Had she not been prepared for it she would’ve had a coughing fit at the implication in Bull’s voice. As it was she could feel the tips of her ears burn as she tried not to imagine any specifics.

“You’re talking about the fruit, right?” Blackwall said, “Please tell me you’re talking about the fruit.” She was already aware by this point that Bull very simply liked sex. Though she couldn’t quite tell if he was teasing Blackwall or actually propositioning him.

“You know Bull, I think you’re ruining the Herald with all this talk. Her poor virgin ears can’t seem to take it.” Varric said, smiling up at her.

Her eyes went wide at that but she knew better than open her mouth. How could they honestly think about sex when they were in the middle of the wilderness fighting demons and bears and Creator’s knew what else. She stood up slowly, brushing off her leather breeches. “I think this is my cue to bid you all goodnight.”

“Oh, I can tell you more about the bananas if it’ll help you sleep, Boss.” The way Bull said sleep made sure that she knew that it was not what he meant.

~

The next time Bull said something it had been just after they killed a bear that had attacked them on their way to the main camp. “You’re good with that sword.”

She and Varric again exchanged a knowing glance. “Thanks,” Was Blackwall’s curt reply.

She sighed out, looking pointedly at Bull who had the most shit eating grin on his face she had ever seen. “I see all that time on your own has given you a firm grip.” She deadpanned looking at Blackwall who blushed furiously and ducked his head, looking anywhere but at her.

“Aw, Boss…” Bull was only partially upset; after all he still got to see Blackwall looking flustered. “I wanted to make him blush.”

Varric was roaring behind them, having caught every word. “Give it up, it’s better when it comes from the Herald of Andraste.”

Blackwall grunted but nodded, “Yes, it is much harder to see coming from her.”

“That’s because she’s too damn small.” Bull protested.

Nialla just shrugged, “You’re just jealous cause I’m a smaller target.”

Bull grinned at that and she groaned before he even opened his mouth. “Well, Boss, lucky for you I have excellent aim.”

~

Cullen

Her group dispersed before he even saw her come through the main gate. Bull nodded to him as he always did and Cassandra walked to her usual spot by the training dummies. Varric was meant by one of his associates by the gate and he walked past his position to the main gate.

He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath but it left him in a rush when he saw her. She had never re-appeared in his dreams and he forgot how much he had longed to see her. Hair pulled back in a loose braid, which swayed while she walked. She was talking to a bear of a man, dark hair with a beard that concealed the lower half of his face. He had only seen Grey Wardens a few times but the emblem on the armor was recognizable enough. What did she think of the warden? He knew elves had far less body hair, he was fairly certain they couldn’t even grow beards.

When she laughed lightly at something the man said he felt a pang of jealous rise up in him. He shook his head, pulling his attention back to the troops.

~

Nialla

“You thought I’d be human?”

“It was a foolish thought.” 

Her laughter died at his tone but she was still smiling, “No, humans are everywhere, it is only expected.” She hoped her smile was less mocking and more reassuring. “I am as surprised about it as anyone, I assure you.”

~

Cullen

It had all been decided within the hour of return. She would leave at first light with a few companions to meet the nobles who would be gathered at Therinfal. By all rights she should be resting, but instead she was standing in front of him, asking him casual questions as though she had all the time in the world.

“A life of service and sacrifice.” She hesitated just a bit before asking, “Are Templars also expected to give up…physical temptation?”

He turned red at that. She had been asking questions about his service, about Templars in general. It was only natural considering the path she was set on. “Physical…Why…” He cleared his throat, “Why would you…” He honestly expected her to laugh, give some indication she was teasing him but her eyes were as inquisitive as ever, expecting an answer. “That’s not expected. Templars can marry – although there are rules around it. And the Order must grant permission… Some may choose to give up more to show their devotion, but it’s, uhm…not required.” Maker, was he really explaining to the Herald of Andraste the ins and outs of Templars and…Maker.

“Have you?” The tone was casual enough but the actual question made him stutter. She was definitely flirting, right?

“Me? I…um…no, I’ve taken no such vows. “Maker’s breath, can we speak of something else?”

She did look more than slightly amuse at his not so subtle subject change. Before she could ask anything else he posed a question of his own.

“Is…there a reason you’ve…” How did he even phrase such a question?

She seemed to take pity on him and his awkward fumbling replies, “I can only go into a dream if it is being shown to me. It is…difficult to navigate the Fade, especially for mortals.” She paused before adding, “I never meant to pry into your past, Commander. I only wanted to help.”

He nodded, “I know…and you have.” At that moment his Lieutenant approached him. 

“Reports of more refugees, Commander. Leliana requested you look over them immediately.”

Nialla smiled knowingly, aware of his workload. “I’ll leave you to it, Commander.”

He nodded, turning to fully address the man he wanted to throttle. He had wanted to speak to her more, hear more of her voice. But he supposed it was for the best, it was getting late and she had a long journey ahead of her in the morning.


	7. Champions of the Just

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mission at Therinal Redoubt and getting to meet everyone's (my) favorite spirit.

Nialla

Ser Delrin Barris, second son of – honestly who cared about that? All she really needed was his name, if only to have something to address him by. He was not so high in the ranks as to have his suspicions about the Lord Seeker’s motives harm him but high enough to influence others to question. The man had a good head on his shoulders, not to mention an attractive one.

“Templars should know their duty even when held from it.”

“Bout time one of you gobs said that.” Sera retorted. 

“Win over the Lord Seeker and every able body knight will help seal the Breach.” Barris continued, pretending to be deaf to Sera, who she could practically feel rolling her eyes.

Leliana had advised them that the Lord Seeker might not even be necessary. If what Ser Barris claimed was true than the Templars knew they should be helping with the Breach, they simply had orders preventing them from it. If she could gather individuals who held sway with the others, could lead them, then it would not matter what the Lord Seeker’s opinions on the matter were.

She almost admired the Order, the underlings staying quite because of the chaos around them. It was admirable, but they were still wrong.

The noble accompanying her barked at Ser Barris like he was a commoner, making her jaw tighten. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sera make a lewd gesture, breaking up her sour mood.

“The Lord Seeker has a request before you meet him.” Ser Barris explained the flag hoisting as she examined the courtyard. Everyone watched her and her little rag-tag group of misfits. The only one of them that even remotely belonged was probably Cassandra considering she was actually a noble.

Lord Abernache was rude and dismissive, as she expected him to be. It was a simple enough task, why make a fuss? The people, the Maker – or in her case the Creators – and then the Templar Order.

“Traditionally, a participant in the right now explains their choices.”

She almost laughed before realizing he was serious. “I serve the people, my first thoughts are for them – as yours should be.” If she could get away with not sharing her thoughts about why they needed the Maker in front of an Orlesian noble then she’d take the opportunity in a heartbeat. Simply put, everyone needed something bigger than themselves to believe in, in her opinion.

~

Cullen

A migraine was building in the back of his head while he tried to stomach the report he was re-reading. He shouldn’t be torturing himself with it but he was. He and Leliana had dispatched people as soon as the report had come in. The Lord Seeker corrupted by a demon, poisoning the officers of the Order with red lyrium.

It was common knowledge now, in Haven at least, what had happened at Therinfal.

“How many times have you read that?” Varric had sat next to him at some point without him noticing.

“Too many.”

The dwarf seemed to find that amusing. “I would have thought reading it once was still too many, Curly. Does it ever change?”

Cullen shook his head, “Not yet, but there is a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

“So, when’s the Herald getting back to close the Breach?”

“Within the next two days.”

“And then we march on the Breach?”

Cullen nodded. It sounded so simple the way Varric spoke about it, like another line on a to-do list. Perhaps it was because he had been the Champion’s companion? Saving people, doing the impossible, it was his every day. It was the Herald’s every day.

~

Nialla

Sera had made her opinion of partnering with the Templars very well known. “All I’m sayin is that they should focus more on the giant sky hole and less on their duty and their Order. It’s what got em all nearly killed in the first place, innit?”

“The people look up to them…just as commoners look up to the Red Jenny. The Templars protect people.”

“First off, no. Red Jenny is by the people, for the people. If somethin ain’t right, we don’t keep doin it. And nextly, they can still protect people without all that Chantry rubbish gettin in the way.”

“Wait, Sera, I thought you believed in all this Andraste stuff.” Bull interrupted their conversation. Nialla sighed, grateful for the elf’s attention to be re-directed.

“Well, sure, right?” Sera’s response threw her for a moment. It was hard to remember the elf had nothing against her.

“Then you support the Templars and their treatment of the Circles? All that?” Bull reasoned.

It was very hard to reason with Sera though, “That’s not Andraste. That’s Chantry.”

“Then you don’t support the Chantry?”

“Of course I do!” She stated, rising from her place by the fire. She was loathed to admit she had been wrong.

“All right, so you support the Chantry, except for all the things that it…does? And this makes sense to you?” Nialla nearly laughed at that. Snow in summer would probably make sense to Sera.

“Is it supposed to? It’s belief, innit?” She sighed, “Look, I’m all for shootin arrows at the hole in the sky, just keep the Templars away from me, yeah?”

Nialla nodded at this, “Fair enough.”

~

Cullen

“Officers betraying their soldiers, Templars without leaders, a demon impersonating the Lord Seeker. We should have taken them to task. The crimes they’ve committed…”

“Were committed by their officers. The soldiers of the Order will serve.” Nialla was looking very tired and very small. He really did forget sometimes how small elves were in comparison to humans, it just seemed normal for him considering the Circle had so many of them mixed in with the general population. She brightened visibly at his support in backing her decision, though she still looked a little haggard.

When Leliana spoke he could hardly hear her, his headache coming back, drowning out sounds and narrowing his vision considerably. Either way he knew Josephine would not let the Inquisition go back on the Herald’s word. This argument was academic.

“The Order was in chaos. We had to shape it going forward or risk loosing it entirely.” Maker, just her voice made his headache retreat, she may have looked tired but her voice – and her resolve – were as strong and willful as ever.

“An alliance with the Templars was our desired outcome. May we discuss their imminent arrival?” The Lady Ambassador was ever the voice of reason in their meetings.

The tension in the room seemed to evaporate when Leliana spoke calmly, “A few dozen veterans are coming ahead of the rest, to help seal the Breach.”

“How soon until these veterans arrive?”

A young man appeared from smoke and air, gripping a circular disk in his hand near the brim of a hat he may have thought ridiculous in any other circumstances. “They’re almost here. Templars don’t like to be late.”

“Maker,” The word was past his lips before he even realized it, his sword in hand as he moved towards the Herald and in front of the Lady Ambassador.

“Wait,” Nialla held up her hand, indicating with words, tone, and body she wanted no harm to come to the young man. He looked over to find Cassandra had also drawn her blade, holding off but tense as a bowstring.

“I came with you to help, I would have told you before but…you were busy.” The young man addressed the Herald directly.

She took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing. He found himself unconsciously following her lead. “It’s alright, Cole. You just startled us, appearing out of thin air.”

That was an understatement. “I wasn’t air. I was here. You didn’t see me. Most people don’t until I let them.” He hopped off the table in front of Nialla, looking directly at her even as Cassandra spoke up.

“Call the guards, this creature is not what you…”

“A moment, Cassandra. I would like to hear why he came.”

At that the boy spoke to Leliana as he kept his eyes fixed on the Herald, his face eager beneath the brim of his hat. Leliana was perhaps the only one of them that had remained calm, her hands clasped delicately behind her back, as was her norm in meetings. “You help people. You made them safe when they would have died. I want to do that. I can help.”

“Cole saved my life in Therinfal, I couldn’t have defeated Envy without him.”

Cassandra glared at the pair of them, obviously suspicious of the boy. “But what does he want now?”

“I think he really is just trying to help.” There was something more in Nialla’s eyes as she spoke to Cassandra, something pleading with her.

“I won’t be in the way. Tiny, no trouble, no notice taken unless you want them to.” The boy was insistent. It was like he wanted to do good but did not know how, he wanted a guide and had chosen the Herald to be it.

“You’re not honestly suggesting we give him run of the camp?” He didn’t like how the boy had attached himself to the Herald.

Josephine, never one to turn down allies, spoke up. “Not freely, perhaps. But it seems a waste to- hold on.”

“Where did he go?” Cassandra gripped her sword tighter, making him realize he was still holding his.

When he looked at the Herald she was smiling. “Nice trick, right? You get used to it.”

The boy was not normal. How could she not see that? Were all her companions so strange that this…mage…or whatever he was, not seem out of place?

“We must see if he can teach it to anyone else.” Cullen almost laughed at Leliana’s suggestion. She could already enter a room unnoticed. “I’ll have people watch the boy, but let’s not be distracted from the Breach.”

~

Nialla

She and Solas observed Cole from a distance at first. Not that it seemed to escape his notice. “I confuse you.” He appeared at their sides, speaking to Solas. “Solas, bright and sad, observes and accepts. Spirit self, seeing the soul, Solas, but somehow sorrows.” Coles voice is the same sad, inquisitive, tempered, hurried cadence she remembers from the fade.

Solas seemed shaken by his words for a moment before peering closer at Cole.

Cole’s gaze cut away from Solas and towards her. “You took in the Templars. You let them stay in strength after what they did. Their own people.” His voice faded with the last sentence. “It is dangerous when too many men in the same armor think they’re right. You should prepare. It’s already getting louder.”

“Louder?” Solas echoed the word, a question.

“I don’t know. But there are echoes brushing back across us. Ripples in a pond from a stone, but backward.” He turned to her to continue, “But first, you seal it. I hope it hurts less. I will help if I can, but I don’t always say it right.”

“I suspect you do the best you can, Cole.” Solas said gently.

“No.” He was blunt in his retort. “I could do better, be better. I want to be better.”

“You think joining the Inquisition will help you be better?” She hoped it did, Cole seemed erratic but sincere in his willingness to help.

“No. Yes.” He shook his head, “I hope so. I hope to help people here.”

Solas placed a hand on her shoulder. “The Breach, lethallan. You have had a long journey and should rest. Have you decided who should accompany you tomorrow?”

“Ends and beginnings blurred into one. It should end how it started.” Cole didn’t seem to have a proper filter between what he felt and what he said.

Nialla nodded in conformation, “Well put, Cole. I would like you, Varric, and Cassandra to accompany me.”

“Of course, Herald of Andraste.” He inclined his head slightly.

She rolled her eyes in response. “I will see the two of you later.”

Solas said, “Of course.” At the same time Cole responded with, “Perhaps.”

~

Cullen

She was tense, stalking along the path between the trebuchets and the frozen lake. It was getting late and they would approach the Breach tomorrow with the Templars that had only just arrived. He had finished organizing them and the sun had set maybe two hours ago.

He found his body moving towards her without his consent. When he called to her he nearly let the word ‘Herald’ spill from his lips but he changed it, “Nialla.” He was rewarded with her affectionate smile.

“Cullen, you look awful.” He didn’t doubt the truth of her words; every step he took throughout the day was rewarded with a throbbing in his head that would not seem to die down. “Headache?”

Rubbing the back of his neck he replied, “It is nothing I cannot handle.” The last thing he wanted was to worry her. Or worse, make her doubt his ability to handle his position.

She hummed thoughtfully. “Would you mind…if I used magic on you?”

His mind instantly replayed the tricks Roslyn used to play on him while he was seeing to his templar duties. She was a trickster but it was always worth it to hear her laugh or see her face light up in amusement as she tried to keep her emotions hidden. Shoving the memories away he nodded, “I would not mind.”

When her hand touched his jaw he nearly jerked back from the contact. She was cold, wandering out in the snow, but it was more than that. When she shut her eyes a blue light swirled around her arm, flowing into him. His headache began to ease instantly, retreating further back until all the pain had seeped from his body.

“Better?” Her voice was lower, breathless and her breathing was quicker now. Was that because she had used her magic or because of something else.

His mouth was dry and he paused a moment, making sure his voice would be even when he spoke. “Yes. Thank you.” His hand had come up to cover hers and he turned his head sideways, placing a kiss in her palm before releasing her.

The tips of her ears were red, “Well, I would feel useless if I weren’t doing someone…” Her face flushed as her eyes went wide, “Something. Damn. I’m more tired than I thought.” He chuckled at that, she had obviously been spending too much time with The Iron Bull.

“Shall I walk you to your cabin then, my Herald?”

She bit her lip and looked down, still fighting with the flush in her cheeks. “Yes. Sleep. That would…be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously it's the Herald's turn to be the awkward duck in this little romance. Next chapter is the Breach and Skyhold and boy do I have some stuff planned for that. *cracks knuckles* It'll probably be one of the longest chapters to date.


	8. In Your Heart Shall Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally! The assault on the Breach, quickly followed by the attack on Haven and the disjointed aftermath.

Cullen

He wished he could have been there to catch her. The light from the Breach had flared angrily, blinding everyone and it did not vanish quietly. It forced them all to the ground. When they stumbled to their feet the Herald was kneeling, closest to the blast. The men cheered, exhausted but triumphant. He was glad they did not see how she staggered when she got to her feet. They were all focused on the sky, whole and blue. 

The way Solas had gone to her, the elf likely knew the exertion of sealing the Breach would deplete her. The apostate did not seem overly burdened by her weight as he shouldered some of her burden.

There was a slight pang in his chest. Longing, a desire to be what Cassandra was to her, a companion instead of just the leader of the Inquisition’s armies. He nearly laughed at that, “just” the leader of an army, as though it were some minor feat.

Nialla was not the only one depleted. He could see the cold sweat on the Templars’ faces – withdrawal. It must have used a significant amount of power indeed if they were experiencing it so quickly. They all reached for the lyrium they had been supplied for this occasion. His throat tightened at the thought of the accursed drug that was still wreaking havoc with his mind. The Herald, he reminded himself, focus on the Herald. Thoughts of her seemed to chase his headaches away, or cause new ones if he worried for too long. 

A scout approached him, “Ser, the Herald’s party says it is safe to go back down. They will descend shortly.” Instead of worrying he thought about his dreams the night before as they made their way back down to Haven.

She had been worried about their assault on the Breach, afraid that she might fail. Not that she had said anything. She wanted to be the strong, courageous person that all of the soldiers and nobles already thought she was. He had asked her, if she was scared because she thought that she might not survive, but she had only laughed at that. It was as though she had no fear of death, only failure. Since the mages were now out of reach the Templars would have to be enough. What if they had miscalculated? What if they had needed the mages? It had been her choice not to recruit them.

He knew it was ridiculous to think that way, but he also understood it. Cullen took a moment to look up, the sky no longer tinged green. Taking a deep breath he had to wonder, how often had he looked up before? Just to appreciate the calm the blanketing blue seemed to offer.

~

“Cullen?” He hadn’t even known Nialla was awake yet. But he can’t focus on her now, so instead he answers Cassandra.

“One watch guard reports a massive force, the main bulk over the mountain.”

“Under what banner?” Josephine asks. And she is more than right to. Who would dare attack them while the Breach is freshly sealed and all of Thedas should be singing the Inquisition’s praises.

“None.” Likely whatever ‘Elder One’ was responsible for the corruption of the Templars.

“None?” The surprise is heavy in her voice.

The gate banged, light from flames flashing from underneath. “If someone could open this I’d appreciate it!”

And of course Nialla moved forward.

~

Nialla

She had seen the Templars at Therinfal Redoubt. Whatever they were fighting…their enemies were not the type to speak or to play tricks. They attacked with fury and anger. Whoever was at the door at the very least had information. One of the soldiers took one side of the door as she opened the other.

A human was kneeling among half a dozen corpses. Cullen was at her side without her even realizing when he had come forward. The man was tanned, one arm bare because of the style of his armor. If the staff he was holding was anything to go by then he was a mage. “Ah, I’m here to warn you. Fashionably late, I’m afraid.”

When he stood he gripped his staff with both hands, trying to stand fully simply made him stumble. Cullen caught his arm easily enough and the man seemed almost amused by it, “Mite exhausted, don’t mind me.” He seemed very ostentatious to say the least, his armor glinted in the light and his moustache and hair had obviously been carefully groomed, despite his somewhat ragged appearance.

“My name is Dorian Pavus and I bring grave news from Redcliffe – an army of rebel mages, right behind me. They are under the command of the Venatori, in service to something called the ‘Elder One’.” Solas had warned her that whatever this creature was it would retaliate. He gestured to the mountain where they could see two figures rising above the line of the oncoming army. “The woman is Calpernia. She commands the Venatori…for that,” Creators, even from where they stood that thing looked twisted, “The Elder One.”

She was tired, exhausted. She wanted to just go home and hide in the forest and hope that the shems would keep the war to themselves.

“They were already marching on Haven. I risked my life to get here first.”

Fighting she could do, but she was only one person. How in the world did anyone expect her to best an army? “Cullen, give me a plan, anything.”

~

Cullen

He had a plan, of course he had a plan, he always did. The words were nearly out of his mouth before she finished speaking. “Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle.” He nodded to the trebuchets, “Get out there and hit that force. Use everything you can.”

As much as it pained him to do so, he turned away from the Herald. She had a job, just as he did. “Soldiers! Gather the villagers. Fortify and watch for advanced forces.” “Inquisition, with the Herald!” He felt almost foolish making speeches. But he knew what morale could do. They could withstand this attack. “For our lives! For all of us!”

~

Nialla

The soldiers had dealt with the first trebuchet but they were still manning that one. Solas supplied the healing while Cassandra and Varric covered her as she aimed the weapon. It would have been faster with two people but she was not going to complain when they had their own problems to deal with.

She finally had it aimed and loaded and the relief and the cheers that filled the air when the army was buried were elated. But of course her life could never be simple. Creators forbid anything ever be so easy.

They fell back, rescuing what people they could. She tried not to look at the broken bodies of the people she was meant to be protecting. There was no time to mourn now. When they made it to the Chantry Cullen regrouped with them.

Their position was almost laughable and she could see he wanted to say something but he shook his head. “Dying is typically a last resort, not first. For a templar, you sure do think a lot like a blood mage.” 

She could kiss Roderick when he mentioned the path to help the others escape, the bulk of the Inquisition could make it out of this. The discussion was brief and when Dorian slipped Roderick’s arm over his shoulders the man stopped. “Herald…if you were meant for this, if the Inquisition was meant for this, then I pray for you.” He would die. That was the only reason he was being so nice.

Settling a hand on the man’s cheek, she nodded, “Thank you.” Perhaps if one priest could be swayed, there was hope for the Chantry yet.

Dorian slipped away, letting Roderick lead him to the back of the Chantry.

“They’ll load the trebuchets, keep the Elder One’s attention until we’re above the tree line.” Cullen’s voice sounded steady as ever. “If we are to have a chance – if you are to have a chance – “ His voice wavered at that and she could see the emotion he was holding back. “Let that thing hear you.”

~

Taunting a god. A would be god, a magister, whatever the hell Corypheus was. Taunting that had certainly got his attention. And by the Creators the dragon he commanded was nothing compared to the one she had seen battling the giant on the Storm Coast.

She stumbled in the cave, wincing with every step at the pain in her side. Broken ribs, probably. She tried to call up her magic and fell to her knee. Mana reserves depleted, great. Using her hand on the cave wall as both a guide and support she pulled herself up and stumbled along.

Everything hurt, every movement causing some part of her to ache. Likely from the fall into the cave, not that she remembered exactly how that happened. Though she would remember the look of surprise on Corypheus’ face when the trebuchets went off. Not much of a god if he could be surprised so easily. Sera would probably call him some random slur. Arsebuscuit, maybe, the human looked like he had just started hamming his body full of whole red lyrium shards.

The despair demons materialized out of nothing. Like she wasn’t cold enough. Instinctively reaching for her staff, she swore. It was broken, useless, as was her magic. She wouldn’t die like this. In some nameless cave after having survived her encounter with a wannabe god.

The mark sparked on her hand, mirroring her anger and defiance. It was almost like it sang to her. She lifted her hand and focused on the anger in her gut that steeled her resolve and the mark flared to life, creating a downward cone that pulled at the demons, dissolving them into the sphere it created overhead.

And the demons were gone. She was breathing heavily, putting too much strain on her broken ribs. Creators she hoped she hadn’t been unconscious in that cave long and could still find her way to the Inquisition.

~

Cullen

It had been a little over a day since Haven was buried but they hadn’t gone far. The Elder One had pulled back immediately, meaning the Herald – Nialla – was likely dead. Dorian had been right; he didn’t care about the Inquisition, only its Herald.

He hadn’t slept, too busy organizing patrols with Leliana, and he hadn’t wanted to sleep. He had a constant headache but he relished the pain, it gave him a distraction, if only a small one. A scout was just finishing his report when Solas approached him.

“Commander,” The apostate nodded at him. Everyone had been wary of Cullen since he had snapped at the apostate. In his mind Solas was her closest confidant. That much was obvious to anyone. The fact that he had left her did not sit well in Cullen’s mind. He knew, logically, that the Elder One only had eyes for the Herald, that them staying would only put them heedlessly at risk.

Attempting to calm his thoughts he dismissed the scout, “Solas.”

“You do not look well.” He breathed out a laugh. That was an understatement, he knew. “Are you worried about the Herald?” Solas always referred to her with her title but from what he caught the elf saying, he would address her in some Dalish way. He wish he knew what the words meant, weather they were endearments of friendship or love.

“I am worried about the hole of the Inquisition. These people are my responsibility.” It was not a lie, but they were both aware he had not really answered the apostate’s original query.

Solas nodded, letting it slide. “But not your burden alone. The other advisors seemed to be worried about you.”

Translation? Leliana was worried. She sent Solas to speak with him, likely to gauge if he lashed out at the elf. “I told her to attract the Elder One’s attention.”

“And attract it she did.” Solas’ quiet words were a touch bitter, surprising the Commander. The apostate usually was a mask of wisdom and calm. When he spoke again it was much more his normal voice, the mask back in place. “You simply did as she asked, as your position requires.”

He did not wish to speak to the apostate more on the matter, did not even wish to remember that he had sent Nialla on a suicidal mission. “Is that all, Solas?”

Solas simply inclined his head, “That is all Commander. Try not to exhaust yourself. The Inquisition still needs you.” He acknowledged, before wandering away.

Cullen didn’t care much about what the Inquisition needed in that moment.

“It was a good plan.” Cole didn’t even make him flinch when he materialized next to him. “She likes that you always have a plan.”

“Who?” He didn’t really need to ask. Cole had a knack for knowing exactly what was on people’s minds and Nialla had consumed his.

Cole just gave him a quizzical look. “Freezing, fumbling, fearful but alive. She is determined not to die and for today it will be enough. She looks forward to seeing you again.” His head spun at the implication of his words.

“How do you know if she’s alive?”

Cole smiled sadly, “Because I can hear her; getting closer, colder.”

The boy disappeared just as Cassandra approached. “A word, Commander?” The Seeker had been keeping a watchful eye on Cullen, aware of his affection and his withdraw. 

~

They had two scouts following them five paces back, out of earshot when they kept their voices low. The Inquisition needed to solidify but morale was low and it was hard to rally men when they had just seen their icon die and their base buried.

The green spark between the mountains caught his eye and Cassandra followed his gaze. He needed to know he wasn’t seeing things. Cassandra’s voice was low when she spoke, “By the Maker.”

“There, it’s her!” His shout would get the attention of the scouts behind them but he didn’t bother to look back at them. Even as he watched he saw Nialla fall to her knees in the snow, the mark sparking out, tinting the white snow around her green.

~

Nialla

If she had not been so utterly exhausted she could have cried upon hearing Cullen’s voice. As it was she fell to her knees, not the best impression from their Herald but her limbs had stopped listening to her. She was surprised she had even made it so far with the howling winds. It would be sheer luck if she had not gotten frostbite from the bitter cold of the snow.

Still, her armor had kept her dry at the very least, which she was grateful for. She had been fighting with tired eyes for a while now, the white landscape switching to black for several seconds before her tired brain realized her eyes were closed.

The moment she heard Cullen though, followed quickly by Cassandra, she knew she would be as safe as they could make her. Her body took on a weightless feeling and it took her a moment to realize she had been picked up, carried in someone’s arms. She tried to tell them about Corypheus but someone close to her ear hushed her.

~

Cullen

“Stupid…arsebuscuit…dragon…wannabe god.” She was mumbling but all her words slurred and blended together. When he hushed her she relaxed and her tense shoulders went lax. Maker, she felt like ice in his arms. There was a gash on the side of her head, dried blood clinging to her skin and covering part of the markings that weaved along her pale skin.

She looked like a doll from the cold. It stole all her warmth and life. He took great care not to jostle her as he and Cassandra made their way back to camp. He knew he wouldn’t wake her with the movement, and it was likely that she couldn’t feel enough for him to cause her any pain but the gait of her silhouette hinted she was favoring her right, probably injured her left. Cassandra had bid the scouts run ahead and let Leliana and Josephine know they had found the Herald.

He did not want to release her when Solas and Vivienne approached him. He was taken aback by the look of concern on the latter’s face. Vivienne was haughty, holding herself like a noble. He hadn’t known that the two of them even got along well considering Nialla’s Dalish background.

Solas moved close to him, both hands on Nialla’s face as he spoke to her gently. *“Da’vhenan, halam’shivanas.” He said the words as a jest but his face was tense. It seemed that without practice or repetition he had lost the familiarity the words once held. They were now simply pretty strings of nonsense. Solas gave him a cursory glance, realizing his confusion at the words.

Nialla huffed out a quick laugh, followed by a low groan. “Ir abelas.”

He shushed her and responded almost to quietly for the Commander to hear, “Ar enfanim mala ghilas," The apostate swallowed thickly and continued, "Mala din’an.” He seemed to choke over the last of the words and he knew without translation that Solas had feared she had been lost to them.

“Ar’din las harillen enasal.” There was a slight smile on her lips with her reply. Her words still sounded slurred but there was a definite cockiness to her tone that conveyed that she was comforting Solas, in response to some concern. He didn't have the same familiarity with the words, but he knew Nialla enough to guess.

Solas kept his hands and eyes on her as he spoke to the Commander, “We have a tent prepared for her. Vivienne and I will make sure she recovers.” He did not ask to take her but the look on his face was clear that he wanted to.

~

Nialla

Solas’ words had penetrated through the fog. The same tone a hahren would use, a gentle tone that demanded an answer. The moment he had switched to common the words seemed to jumble in her brain. They mixed and became random murmuring as she let herself focus back on the feeling of the warm body holding her close.

The moment the heat left her she whimpered, feeling painfully alone. “Hamin,” Solas said gently from somewhere close by.

She tried to focus on the fact she was safe, that the people around her would help and protect her but all she felt now was the overwhelming cold.

~

Cullen

“Soft words, gentle hands, soothing magic. She does not understand why you left. She misses the warmth.” Cole was sitting with his back to Cullen’s cot. The boy was fidgeting with something in his hands.

“Are you worried about her, Cole?” Though the boy seemed empathetic to people, he did not really seem to have any emotions of his own.

“Yes. You are too.”

“I don’t want her to be in pain.” Cullen said quietly. Leliana had ordered him to get some rest but he could not help but worry. Solas had sent everyone away from the Herald’s tent, keeping only Vivienne and another healer to look after her.

“I want to help, but Solas says I can’t help her right now. I upset Vivienne.”

The boy was an unknown; his powers were odd, even for mages. “So you came here?”

“Safe and solid, protecting and proud, stronger when she is with you. You should tell her about the lyrium.” With that Cole vanished again, leaving Cullen to his thoughts.

He thought absently about Solas, about the raw emotion the elf had revealed when speaking to her earlier. The elf was clearly enamored with her but what of her feelings? Another mage would be the obvious choice for her affections. Solas shared her language, her culture.

When he finally drifted off into the Fade he hoped to see her but knew he wouldn’t. She would need to be in control in order to slip into his dreams. But it was still comforting to know he might come across her there, mended and boisterous, swinging down from a high branch to land in his arms and tease him about some trivial thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know the whole "assault on the Breach" bit was a little short but it's one of the few things that you can't skip in a play through so I assume we're all very tired of dealing with it.
> 
> *Since Elven is translated less literally and more as what the intent of the words is, I've been taking the liberty of making the choppy phrases more eloquent. Literal translation is in parentheses.  
> “Da’vhenan, halam’shivanas.” (little heart, the sweet sacrifice of duty)  
> “Ir abelas.” (I am sorry)  
> “Ar enfanim mala ghilas, mala din’an.” I was afraid you had left us, that you were dead. (I, to fear, you, to go; your, death/end)  
> “Ar’din las harillen enasal.” I would not grant them the satisfaction (I, not, grant/give, opposition, joy in triumph over loss)
> 
> This chapter is a little long but I didn't want to leave anyone hanging by not reuniting our lovebirds (or at least our very-smitten-with-each-other bird)
> 
> I do really like Cole and feel like he would attach himself to Cullen just as much as Varric and Solas simply because Cullen is in a lot of pain but he's still strong and has a clear path.


	9. Cullen's Personal Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *****PLEASE READ*****  
> THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS - sort of - RAPE. (It definitely is but it is not in any sort of detail). If you are sensitive to this subject please skip this chapter. I will include a brief summary at the beginning of the next chapter so that you do not miss content. It is not tagged with this because it does not actively happen in words but we all know some Templars in Kirkwall were real messed up. So please, please, PLEASE take care of yourselves. It is marked with asterisks (*) when the scene comes up and when it ends if you simply wish to skip that part but it WILL mention it later in the chapter. Again, I will provide a brief summary at the beginning of the next chapter.
> 
> This chapter focuses more on Cullen's past and the things that haunt him. It shifts between Solas and Cullen just to change things up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to attack your feels, not your mental health. I have changed the tags, but these warnings are for people who may not read all of them.

Solas

The Commander may have had feelings for her but the man moved slowly. He smiled over his drink that night when Cullen flashed a jealous look when Nialla sat so close her thigh brushed his. In all fairness Nialla was a highly physical person, always touching. The one time when he had asked her about it she had simply replied that she enjoyed feeling the life in all things.

He normally pulled away – not wanting her to be in contact with him for too long in case she became suspicious – but tonight he wanted to annoy the Commander. The man had the gall to be angry with him for having left Nialla alone. She was not some da’len he need protect. She was an asha, capable and confident.

She had made a full recovery after a few days rest, healing quickly once her mana was restored. He missed not being with her while she slept, he found her presence comforting, but he did not want to bring undue burdens on her with the rumors that might start.

“They are still in good spirits.” He commented, they spoke common typically, not wanting to make others suspicious of them.

Nialla spoke it simply because she did not wish to exclude her friends from their open conversations. She did not wish others to feel unwelcome around her. “Even with it as hectic as it is, it is still peaceful.”

He chuckled, “Most things are when compared with an archdemon and an ancient magister.” He knew she was grateful that he kept things light. It was a serious matter but he saw the burden already weighed heavily on her.

“Still, it is nice that they are so eager to fight back.” Tracing the markings on her face with his gaze he nodded. At least she had chosen Mythal as the goddess she served. He doubt he would have been able to be so at ease with her otherwise. She turned her gaze away, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“It doesn’t bother you when the humans stare at your markings. Why do you shy away when I look at them?” He wanted to know if he had been regarding her with any type of aversion or disgust. She was more than the markings and he would be loathed to think that his gaze hurt her.

Her cheeks tinted pink and he could see the Commander move to leave out of the corner of his eye but he stayed focused on her. “You know so much of the Dalish, sometimes I do not remember that you did not grow up as I did.”

“You wish we were the same?”

Her eyes fell to their thighs, still touching. “It isn’t that. Sometimes I just…I wish I could have known you without the Inquisition.” She laughs dismissively at her words, “But our hunters would have likely attacked you on sight.”

He laughs at that, he does not doubt her words. Clans have behaved aggressively towards him in the past. “The Inquisition is hectic, but it is a part of you now.”

“A very large part, it would seem.”

It was growing late and many had retired for the night but as elves they did not need as much sleep as the humans. “Have you slipped into the Commanders dreams lately?” He had wanted to ask sooner. Not speaking with her every night in the Fade had saddened him but he found comfort in the thought that she was still enjoying her time.

“No,” He can’t help but tense. If she is not in his dreams then why can’t he seek her out? “I try but it is like…something bars me from him. It is different than before. It is almost like he does not want me in his mind.”

“It would be quite a surprise if the Commander had learned to block you with his mind, especially considering he is not a mage.” Perhaps it was something else? Perhaps the man was simply not sleeping. “Do you still see him when you reach out?”

She shook her head, “It…it is like he is there but when I look it is…wrong.” She sighed, “I don’t know.”

Instead of pressing he took her hand. He had been patient, waiting for her to mention the change in the mark, but she had been silent on the subject. “How is the anchor? Does it hurt?”

“I…” She was quiet for a long moment, seeking something in her mind. “There was something…different about it, in the cave after I woke up. My staff was broken and there were despair demons.” She chewed her plush bottom lip, trying to focus. He gave her time, letting her sort through her memories and put them into words. “It was like an extension of myself. I felt angry, defiant, but I couldn’t fight them. I had no mana, no weapons…I put up the mark and…” She held up her left arm and the anchor sparked quietly. He tensed but it did not seem to be hurting her.

“What happened?” His voice was quiet and he did not entirely mean to speak.

She let her hand fall, letting it go limp between them. “It tore them apart, like dissolving paper in water. But it slowed them too, making them sluggish. Usually they’re so quick. It was like quicksand.”

“Would you like me to examine it? Quietly, once we get where we’re going.”

She laughed at that, “And where exactly are we going?” She stood up, turning to him with her hands resting on her hips in an indignant pose. Though she tried to be a figure of power she still had an amused grin.

“Someplace where the Inquisition can build, da’vhenan.”

Like always she softened ever so subtly at the endearment, “Ma serannas, lethallin.” He enjoyed speaking his native tongue to her, it set him at ease and when she responded in kind it made him happy.

“Melana somnir?” He wanted to investigate why the Commander was unreachable in the fade and he suspected she was tired. He also suspected he still had bruises on her ribs because she did not tighten her armor in quite the same fashion as before and did not stretch so much.

She nodded, “I think so. Sleep well and safe travels.”

He could not help but find humor in her response. The banter was practiced often after he had revealed that he would visit the Fade while he slept, sometimes doing so for days. “I always do, da’vhenan.”

~

Cullen

Since Cole had mentioned telling Nialla about lyrium he had fitful nights. He remembered the drug, what it did to him and some of the more unpleasant things he had done as a Templar.

The memories were not so sharp since Nialla was not there, but they were clear enough. He was a spectator in his own body as he forced a mage to his knees in front of Meredith. The woman had a brand in her left hand. Normally the brand was put on after the mage was made tranquil but Orsino was watching, held back by two other Templars.

“I can see why you would not wish Nialla to see this, Commander.” Even with Solas’ voice breaking through to his mind he could not bring himself to stop holding the mage steady for Meredith. The man’s hands were chained to his waist behind his back and Cullen was behind him, his feet on either side of the man’s legs and his hands on either side of his head.

Their was a blood curdling scream as Meredith pressed the red iron into the mage’s flesh and he could not move his eyes away from the man’s boiling skin. The smell of molten flesh assaulted him as he looked to Meredith, the red in her eyes combating with their normal hazel.

When he turned his gaze to Orsino he realized that the other man had been screaming but he had tuned him out. He always tuned out Orsino’s pleas. But the man was a blood mage. Meredith could not show him mercy.

“Isn’t making someone tranquil enough of a punishment, Commander?”

Commander. The title felt familiar, sweet, but it was also far away. Like he knew it, knew it applied to him, but did not remember how. He felt the lyrium in his veins, how it sang and hummed whenever the mage tried to use magic to defend or heal himself.

The lyrium felt good and he hated himself for his weakness but Maker, it felt like he was whole again. He felt the man shaking from the pain and the anguish and it sobered him immediately. Red lyrium…Meredith was corrupted even before she had the excuse of it whispering to her. He always thought that blood magic was the ultimate crime against the Maker but what of this crime?

The woman tortured those she was supposed to be protecting. He had tortured them. Maker how he wished he could undo this sin.

When the memory jumped backwards he flinched. This time it was Nialla between his hands. However when Meredith moved towards her Solas intervened, when he grabbed the brand the memory froze.

Cullen stumbled back, breathing hard from the fear of what he’d almost done. “I…” He looked up at Solas. He felt tears run down his cheeks but he couldn’t stop them. “I’m sorry…I…I would never…”

“You fear losing her.” Solas said calmly.

He could feel the lyrium singing in his veins and Solas was forced away as Meredith continued. The lyrium made him whole as the brand was forced to her skin. Cullen covered his ears but it did nothing to quiet her screams. He was in ecstasy from the drug but his conscious mind roared against losing Nialla.

And then the ritual started. She writhed and fought like a cornered beast on the table, a templar on every limb restraining her. He had her arm as Meredith forced the rite.

The scene shifted again to the courtyard outside the Circle in Kirkwall. Solas stood beside him, keeping his thoughts to himself as he usually did. He didn’t want to see her. He never looked for very long at the tranquil. Seeing the people they had been before made his gut wrench to know they were dead inside. Every mage in Kirkwall’s Circle had feared the rite more than death.

Nialla was completely still as she stood with her back to the wall, the brand still fresh. It had been healed with magic but it was still red and swollen.

~

Solas

Cullen approached the tranquil slowly, like he wanted to run but his body was not letting him. He could not blame the man for not wanting to look at her. This version of her made his gut wrench. When the Commander called out to her she turned but there was no recognition on her face or in her eyes.

The Commander fell to his knees, crying, begging this facsimile to recognize him, to say something. “What would you have me say?”

With those words his mind shifted again and Solas felt a wave of apprehension, these memories only got worse as they progressed and he did not truly wish to see the next one.

***** (Please read chapter summary before continuing)

On the other side of the door he could hear men cheering, their exact words lost in their revelry. In all these memories it seemed the Commander was a vessel, nothing more than a part of the memory, but this time he was shaking when he placed his hand on the doorknob.

He found himself as lost to the memory as the Commander apparently was. The smell of alcohol crowded them as they stepped into the small room, which held five Templars, all crowding something. Four of the Templars continued their shouting, two closer to one another with the other two flanking them. The fifth one stopped, looking up at the Commander. “Knight Captain!” The man came to a swaying attention, obviously drunk.

The other four looked up and then turned, the leering grins on their faces never fading as they regarded their superior. “Rutherford…” The oldest one greeted, the two that had been shoulder-to-shoulder turned, revealing a kneeling Nialla, naked and covered in cum. “Come to join the fun?”

“Out, now, all of you.” Cullen’s voice was calm but even above his rushing heartbeat he could hear the threat in the Commander’s tone. Solas tried to shut his eyes; killing these men would solve nothing, they were only a memory.

“Greedy,” One of the men commented. They all shifted their robes, putting their still half hard cocks away before filing out past the Commander.

One of them chuckled, “Too bad you couldn’t have gotten to her earlier, she was real lively before Meredith had to go and ruin our fun.”

Solas saw red. These Templars… He couldn’t think clearly through the haze of hatred. Even if it had not been Nialla, it had been somebody. Some poor mage who they had sworn to protect and had violated their so called sacred oaths.

While Solas was stewing in his anger the Commander shut the door. The man knelt in front of her and methodically, mechanically, began to clean her face. He made quiet apologies as the woman they both adored stared at the Commander with the same blank stare.

He set his hand on the Commander’s shoulder. “Cullen,” He tried to make his voice gentle, tried pulling the man away from this memory.

Before he could slip away or Cullen could speak the facsimile spoke first, “Is something the matter, Knight Captain?” The words were void of anything even hinting at emotion. Solas got the urge to tear out her eyes, the blankness which they held making him tremble at the loss.

“I wish you would fight them.” Cullen brushed her thumb over her cheek and as he did so it smeared her vallaslin as though it were ink.

“Templars are agents of the Chantry. They only wish to protect us.”

He jerked as the Commander laughed at her empty words, “No…I only wish to protect you…but I have failed. I wish you could forgive me.”

“You are forgiven.”

The Commander laughed again and new tears stained his cheeks. “I do not believe you are capable of forgiveness anymore.”

She was quiet then and Solas shook his shoulder more insistently. “Commander. You have suffered enough.” We both have, “It is time for you to wake up.”

*****(That bit’s done now for anyone who was skipping over it)

Solas sat up on his cot as he fought with his emotions. He heard the faint crunching of snow under light feet just before Nialla entered his tent. “Solas,” There was surprise in her features. He should have been awake sooner but he had lost himself in the Commander’s dream.

He used his full speed – something he rarely did outside of battle – to rise and go to her in less than a heartbeat. He couldn’t have gotten to her faster even if he had Fade-stepped. One arm wrapped about her waist, pulling their bodies flush as his other hands entangled itself in her hair. His body was crowding her. He was tall for a common elf and he leaned over her, letting his face rest in her hair.

“Are you well, lethallin?” He leaned away, keeping their hips flush. Even the confusion in her eyes was better than the void that had been present moments ago.

“Ir, ma’sumeil ne’eth, da’vhenan.” The rage subsided slowly as he became more aware of himself and his surroundings. He kissed her forehead, something he had seen the hahrens do in her dreams to offer comfort. “You should go see the Commander. Quickly.”

Her look of confusion, which had subsided, returned. “Why?”

He shook his head, “Just…he may need the same comfort you have just offered me. Trust me.”

She looked at him very seriously – an oddity for her. “I do.” Her voice was quite but she was sure. She nodded, her red hair swaying as she quickly turned on her heel and headed for the Commander’s tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven:  
> “Ir (more, very/ I am), ma’sumeil (I, close/near) ne’eth (you, safe), da’vhenan.” I am, now that I have seen you are safe. [Ir = more, very/ I am; ma (I) sumeil (close/near) ne (you) eth (safe)]


	10. Skyhold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So we finally make it to Skyhold~ Exalted Plains and meeting Hawke, plus a little drunken encounter at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary for last chapter (in case you skipped it) : Nialla hasn't been able to slip into Cullen's dreams lately so Solas takes a stab at it and witnesses some of the reasons Cullen is so restless at night, namely because all the tortures he saw mages go through his dreams twist into those things happening to Nialla. He feels responsible for what happened to all those mages (since he sort of is cause he was in charge but also isn't cause he had no way of stopping all of them because Meredith was a psycho bitch)

Cullen

His pack felt like it was staring at him. As long as he stared at it, thinking of the box with the vial within, the lyrium within that. When he heard the tent flap flare open he forced his gaze away. “Nialla,” He chased the version of her his dreams held as he stared at her.

“Morning,” Her face tinted red but her eyes ran over him. He had his leather breeches on but nothing else. Her tongue peeked out to wet her top lip as she pulled her lip between her teeth.

“Did you need something?” The desire and heat in her eyes actually set him at ease. Any other day it would make him blush but the emotion in her eyes made him smile. When she didn’t respond he repeated the question.

She blinked a few times before her eyes snapped up to his face, “Hm? Oh, uhm, I just wanted to make sure you were alright, lately I can’t see your dreams.”

“You…haven’t seen them?” There was a sense of wonder in his voice that he could not mask.

“No, not since Haven.”

He was about to say something when the tent flap flared again and Cassandra entered. “Am I interrupting something?” The knowledge the woman was only trying to help did little to curve his embarrassment.

“Not at all, Cassandra. Why don’t you both give me some time to dress and I’ll join you shortly.”

Cassandra grunted and stalked out of the tent. Nialla smiled, “I rather like you like this, Commander, but if you insist.” She had her coy smile firmly in place as she eyed him one last time before slipping away.

“Maker’s breath,” He hummed to himself while pulling on his clothes and boots, followed by methodically putting his armor on. He let his nightmare slip away, grateful that she had not seen them. There was something nagging about them at the edge of his memory but he dismissed it, focusing instead on the sway of Nialla’s hips as she had swaggered out of his tent. Maker that was a fine sight.

~

Nialla

Even the cold lessened within Skyhold’s walls. Solas had claimed the bottom floor of a rotunda. “I didn’t know you painted, hahren.” She said, eyeing the paints that he had been making on a table, which had been cleared of dust.

“The soldiers have been buzzing around like bees lately. I would like to go through the libraries, but I would not want to be in the way.”

She chuckled at that, something Varric had reminded her she needed to stop. After all, the inquisition only had room for one chuckling elf. “Yes, well, the sooner they have a report on all the rooms, the sooner we can get beds and some much needed rest.”

He stepped close to her, putting himself in her space. She did not shy away from him though. “And the sooner I can inspect the Anchor, yes?”

Though she rolled her eyes she would not deny it had been troubling her. “Yes, well, all in good time. I should see how the others are settling in.”

“Of course, I believe Leliana had something she wished to discuss with you.” Solas noted, going back over to his table to mix something for the right pigments.

She nodded at that, very aware of the spymaster’s presence above them. Cupping her hands to her mouth she shouted up to her, “Hey, Leliana, did you want to talk?”

Leliana appeared from over the railing and threw a square of paper down at her. When she unfolded it she laughed. Solas was leaning against the table, staring at her with a touch of mirth. “What does it say?”

“It says ‘yes, and stop yelling, you will frighten the birds.’” She laughed again, “The ink is already dry.” The spymaster knew her well.

Solas chuckled at that. “I bet she is glad she got to use it so soon.”

She looked up and shouted, “You mean I’ll scare the crows?” Solas raised his hand to cover his widening smile at her antics.

Leliana appeared back over the edge and threw down another note. When Solas raised a brow she read the note for him, “ ‘Yes. And you’re welcome for that excellent set up. Now hurry along, Inquisitor.’ ”

“You don’t have to be so formal, Leli!”

Another note and she cackled to hard at it to read it so she merely handed it to Solas. ‘Don’t call me that, and especially don’t shout it for all of Skyhold to hear.’

“I thought she was being cute!” Solas shouted up to the spymaster. Nialla stared at him, eyes wide and unbelieving. Leliana had much the same look when she peered over the railing down at him.

Nialla only laughed harder. Their spymaster look so put out. She must not have had a note for Solas. Nialla couldn’t blame her since Solas was rarely so jovial. He seemed tenser lately in the fact that he was always at her side, trying to make her happy. She didn’t mind it, but it was simply unlike him.

“I will see you later, lethallin.”

“Dareth shiral, lethallan.”

~

Cullen

Nialla had spoken to him before she had left for the Exalted Plains. Varric’s “friend” – likely Hawke, which Cassandra would kill him for – would arrive in a few days’ time.

She had taken Serra, Blackwall, and Dorian with her. Though Leliana said she had people on him, Cole seemed to come and go at his leisure. He had already spooked one of the nobles. Not that the woman remembered anything, just that she was oddly emotional over a lover she had left behind and unsettled.

After telling her about the lyrium he felt far more at ease. He had never wanted to hide it from her, and the fact that she was now his Inquisitor gave him the perfect reason to finally get it off his chest. “It is brighter now, but it is still blinding. It hurts to be missing pieces but you know they’re wrong so you pull away.”

“Cole,” The boy – the spirit – was sitting on his desk. From what Cullen had seen, the spirit liked sitting in places he shouldn’t.

“She helps. The chains feel looser as you pull away from them.”

“Is there something you would like to discuss, Cole?”

“Yes,” The spirit sat cross-legged over his maps. “Hawke.”

Cullen tensed at that, “What about him?”

“He is a mage.”

“Yes?” He almost laughed at some of the excuses Hawke would give for carrying a staff around all the time. Once he had become Champion it only got worse. A storm of fireballs would poor down from the sky at the docks at night and Hawke and his companions would claim it was a passing dragon. Lightening? Freak, localized storm, it had been ridiculous.

“Fenris hates mages. Fenris loves Hawke. Can it be so simple?”

“I do not hate mages, Cole.”

“I know. Templars…protect mages. Oaths and orders, vigilance and violence, Greagoir loved Irving. Either of them would give their lives for the other. But the people under them came first. Templars are meant to protect mages. That’s why you left the Order, to protect mages.”

“I am not a Templar, Cole.” His words this time were angrier.

Cole didn’t seem to notice his anger. He only nodded, “Yes. Not a Templar, but someone who is himself. You are like me.”

“What?” He was taken aback by the spirit’s words. Like him how?

Cole seemed confused too. He put the heels of his hands to his head. “I don’t always say it right.”

“Just…it’s okay, Cole, calm down. Just focus on what you mean and let the words come on their own.”

Nodding, Cole continued, “You…want to help the mages, make the world brighter. You want to treat people right, be loyal, courageous. But you didn’t know how. You thought the Order was the best way. But instead you hurt people. Realized you were wrong. Now you help.”

Cullen tensed at the spirit’s words, “You’ve hurt people?”

He expected excuses, denial, for him to shift the blame, “Yes.” The reply was simple. “You think I’m dangerous.”

“Everyone is dangerous, Cole. It depends on who they’re a danger to.” The spirit nodded at his words, considering them.

“I want to help people, stop the hurt. It is hard to kill…people…but they are twisted, they hurt others. They want to hurt us.” Cole paced as he spoke but he stopped to look at him. “They say…a Commander needs a war. But you don’t want to fight either. You just want a dog.”

Cullen laughed at that, making the spirit give him a questioning look, “I haven’t thought about that in ages, Cole.”

“You’re Fereldan. Of course you want a dog.” He said simply before disappearing.

~

Nialla

“You have something to say mage?” They had only just gotten to the Exalted Plains and already Blackwall was picking a fight with Dorian.

Dorian scoffed, “If I had something to say, I’d say it.”

She could practically feel Blackwall glaring at the man. “That’s it? I’d expect something more from a m an who can’t stop talking about how clever he is.”

“And I’d expect no less from a brutish thug.” Dorian replied tartly.

“Better that than a pompous brat.” 

Yes, she sighed to herself, a pompous brat who traveled from Tevinter to warn them of the rebel mages and the venatori threat. “If we’re going to fight at each other’s sides, we need to get along.”

“Tell that to mister barely concealed envy issues!” Dorian protested.

“You two are such men!” She could hear Sera echoing her sentiment as soon as she said it, or perhaps a second sooner.

“Well I am.” Blackwall grunted out. Obviously he didn’t fully accept that the comment was derogatory.

“Best pound on your chest so nobody doubts.” Sera chuckled at Dorian’s comment and both men were blissfully quiet.

~

“I can’t believe you’re scared of magic, Sera. It’s a gift as mundane to me as your bow is to you. Surely you see there’s nothing to fear in a properly used tool.” They had already cleared the ramparts and were making their way to report in to the keep when Sera had commented on the magic being used to raise the dead.

Dorian and Blackwall had failed to be even remotely more civil to one another and to be fair it was mostly Blackwall commenting on how pompous Dorian was. She made yet another mental note to never take them out at the same time. Ever.

“Tell that to all the ‘proper’ mages waving their tools in peoples’ faces.” Sera quipped, making Nialla and Blackwall chuckle at each other.

“There’s an image.” Dorian replied, a little more subdued than his earlier tone.

“What about Coryphemus? How many ‘proper tools’ has he got under him?” Nialla snorted at that, placing a hand over her mouth quickly. “And the rebel mages? How many ‘proper tools’ have they raised?”

“That’s not – I don’t think I can continue.” Dorian was looking both confused and a little flushed, gesturing at Sera to Blackwall in an expression that translated roughly into, “How can she not see what she’s doing?”

“Right well, I don’t care how gifted you are. Don’t cram it where it’s not wanted.” She actually started crying. Her! The newly appointed Inquisitor started crying from laughter, which Blackwall joined in on. Sera was a lesbian and rarely caught on to dick jokes but that just made her last comment all the more amusing. “Maker, what are you two on about?”

Nialla shook her head, “Nothing, nothing.”

~

Though Blackwall and Dorian seemed to have found and odd – ribbing sort of friendship, the Warden and Sera were easy comrades. Dorian and Sera traded quips and the three seemed to bond over their mutual enjoyment of Sera’s antics. She was grateful for the rogue, considering the trip had lasted a solid month before they saw Skyhold again.

She couldn’t help but wonder if Solas would have liked to accompany her when she visited the Dalish. Then again, he didn’t really seem to care about the people themselves, only the concept of them.

Varric approached her the second she made it into the main hall. “Inquisitor. That friend I told you about is here.” She nodded, still feeling a little weary of anyone outside of her circle seeing her when her nerves had already been frayed.

Still, she followed Varric, trusting that any friend of Varric’s wouldn’t be overly annoying.

“Inquisitor, meet Hawke, the champion of Kirkwall.” Oh he was being smug. Varric knew that she was quite aware of who Hawke was. Cassandra would kill the dwarf.

“Though I don’t use that title much anymore.”

“Hawke, I thought you might have some friendly advice about Corypheus. You and I did fight him after all.” It was hard to believe there was someone the Champion fought and didn’t actually kill.

~

“He’s the kind of man legends turn into gods.” Solas was sitting in the chair at her desk, listening to her ramble about the Exalted Plains and Hawke. He flinched at the words.

“How do you mean?”

Sitting forward, she rested her elbows on her knees. “Going to a city with nothing but making a name for himself among the lower class. He is a mage but the Templars didn’t dare touch him. He had an input in nearly everything that happened in and around the city for almost a decade.”

Solas chuckled, “You sound quite smitten with him, lethallan.”

Though she couldn’t fight her blush she merely shook her head. “Not at all. You saw the elf he was with?” She hadn’t needed to ask, considering Solas was as observant as The Iron Bull. Still, she waited for him to nod. “Fenris, an ex-slave, his lover.”

“I find it hard to believe an ex-slave would willingly be with a mage.” Solas hummed to himself, he was still working on something in his book, likely more ideas for painting his rotunda.

“You believe he has something against mages?” Fenris was a warrior if the blade he carried was any hint. She found that people outside of Templars and mages didn’t really have much of an opinion of the two factions.

He laughed at this, “I know he does. If you had seen the looks he was giving me when I was assisting the Commander train soldiers then you would know it too.”

“Still…the Champion of Kirkwall.”

“The Commander was in Kirkwall when the Champion was there, was he not? Does he not have any stories about him?” She knew what Solas meant, that she could ask Cullen about Hawke, but she couldn’t help but reverse it.

She wasn’t aware of Solas eyeing her until he spoke up again, “You seem very excited by something, da’vhenan”

~

“Carver probably spoke to the man more than I did.” Hawke said, eyeing her questioningly. She sat at a table on the second floor of the bar with Hawke, Fenris, Varric, Sera, and The Iron Bull. Sera was trying to walk her through the rules of Wicked Grace but the elf was confusing enough when she actually knew what she was talking about. Hawke’s mabari was sitting in the corner with Cole while the spirit spoke to the dog quietly.

Varric laughed, “I’m only glad the man doesn’t seem so oblivious anymore. You know he once told Hawke that ‘mages aren’t like real people’. No, not real people at all, not like Hawke.”

It was Sera’s turn to laugh, though hers was a bit drunk since she was on her fourth drink, “Didn’t you carry round a giant stick all the time? Whaddya say it was for?”

“Said it was a walking stick.” Varric supplied.

Nialla was grinning, “Ah, yes, a walking stick that erupted in sparks and flame, covered in ornaments.”

“You give the man too little credit. He knew exactly what Hawke was…and Merrill.” Fenris hadn’t spoken since she had joined their group and even now he spoke in a disgruntled rumble.

Hawke gave Fenris a questioning sort of look. “Really?”

Fenris nodded, “Came to the estate one night, completely drunk, asking how I could accompany you knowing what you were.”

“It’s cause you love me.” Hawke was also well into his drinks and his words stretched as much as the grin on his face. When Fenris didn’t respond Hawke wrapped an arm around the elf’s waist, burying his face into his lover’s neck.

Fenris shoved him away roughly, “Stop cheating, Hawke.”

“Varric started it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You really think I would cheat my closest friends?”

“Yes,” the table replied unanimously, causing Varric to bark out a laugh.

“You all know me so well. I’m touched.”

~

Cullen

His skin was flushed from exertion as he slowly leaned back in his chair. Reading when he could not seem to focus on the words for the pain behind his eyes. Maker how he wished he’d had the spare time to have gone to her today. Just as the thought entered his mind one of the side doors to his office creaked open. The Inquisitor did not seem to mind him as she slowly turned back, locking the door behind her with all the focus of someone who was very drunk and trying not to be.

“Inquisitor,” At the sound of his voice she turned to him, coming to a sort of attention as she straightened her stance for a moment before stumbling. “Is something the matter?”

“Yes,” His breath caught at that but she seemed to be thinking, “No. I honestly don’t know. It may be a problem. It depends.”

“On?” She sauntered over to his desk to stand on his side, leaning against the sturdy wood and facing him.

When she leaned over he could smell the alcohol on her but also something bitter and calming. She smelled like a forest underneath the alcohol. “Are you…do you have a…” She touched his head. “May I?”

He swallowed, even drunk as she was, she was asking his permission to use magic on him. Cullen nodded ever so slightly. She shut her eyes, leaning forward to press her forehead to his to stop her swaying as she focused her energy. A candle and now the blue glow of her magic lighted the dark room as she pulled the pain from him. When she was done she opened her eyes but made no move to pull away.

“You…” His voice was rough and he swallowed again before restarting his thought, “You said there might be a problem?”

“Do you want to sleep with me, Commander?” He could feel his pulse quicken, rushing in his ears as his face heated from her candid question. When he took to long to answer she slipped her leg over his, putting her knees in the seat of his chair as she leaned back, letting her ass rest on his desk. “Cullen?”

“Maker’s breath,” His gloved hands gripped the arms of the chair hard, trying to force them to stay where they were. He ran his eyes over her delectable form, her breasts sitting at his eye level. Before he registered the movement his hands were on her thighs, warm and firm through the leather of her breeches. He could feel his cock pressing firmly against his own leathers but he shook himself. “I can’t…”

Her laugh was husky and it made his straining erection twitch. One of her small hands combed through the waves of his hair as the other trailed down his chest piece, following the folds of cloth down his stomach and resting confidently against his clothed length. “I think this says otherwise.”

Taking hold of her wrist he pulled her hand away. Maker, why was he pulling her hand away? It had felt so good teasing him through his leathers like that. “You’re drunk, Nialla.” She moaned at the use of his words. His voice was a whisper and it took him a moment to realize the truth of what he had said. If he took her now he would be no better then the Templars in the circle that would abuse the Tranquils. That thought killed his desire to strip her down and see how far those markings of hers went.

“So?” She clutched the back of his head with her free hand and pushed her lips onto his eagerly. Even drunk she tasted sweet, her lips pliant against his as she pressed herself into him.

He could feel her moan into him when his hand pressed against her lower back and he stood up, his chair scraping back with the motion. When he pulled away her pupils were blown and she was breathing heavily, panting for him. “I think I should escort you back to your room, Inquisitor.”

She whimpered, going in for another kiss, which he avoided more easily now because of his height. “Or we can play right here.”

He hated himself for the way his body responded to her suggestion. “I think it would be best if you got some rest.” He could have put her out to go back to her rooms on her own. But what if she went to someone else to quench her lust? Someone less regimented than him? With that thought he opened the main door to his office and began to escort the Inquisitor back to her chambers.

“I think it would be better if you ravished me until I couldn’t walk straight.” Her voice was low in his ear and her warm breath against his skin on such a cold night made him shiver.

When he made it to the rotunda he jerked back, seeing Solas mixing some ingredients together. The slender apostate looked up at the two of them. His eyes took in Nialla carefully, and the way Cullen was guiding her with a hand pressed to the small of her back.

“Lethallin, you look absolutely delectable tonight.” A wry smile twisted her lips. “You know, our honorable Commander just turned me down. To think, the people I throw myself at have no interest in fucking one of the most powerful women in Thedas. But they do say third time’s the charm, don’t they?”

Cullen couldn’t help the tension in his muscles at hearing that. Who else had she propositioned tonight?

“Third?” Solas echoed Cullen’s thoughts – though his voice was much calmer than Cullen’s would have been.

Her shoulders rose in a shrug, “I think I asked Cullen twice.”

Solas hummed, thinking to himself as he approached them. “Perhaps I should take over from here, Commander.”

Nialla wrapped her slender arms around the apostate’s shoulders, “Only if it means you’ll be joining me in my bed, hahren.”

“No, but it will mean you won’t wake up with a splitting headache tomorrow.” Solas countered, placing his hands easily on Nialla’s waist.

He didn’t like the way Solas was so relaxed when touching her. It gave him the impression the apostate was physically familiar with her. But then, why wouldn’t he be? They were both elves, both mages. It was not the first time he felt jealousy take hold of him. He had to beat it back. Nialla was not his. He had no claim to her and no right to be jealous of who she chose to be intimate with.

With those thoughts echoing in his head he nodded, “I’ll leave her to you then.” He turned to walk away, getting half way to the door before hearing Nialla call to him.

“Wait, one more thing Commander.” She had let go of Solas and was inches from him when he turned to face her. Her hands combed through his hair again as she stood on her toes to press his lips to hers. This kiss was less hurried but no less eager. When she licked the scar that split his top lip. “One for the road.” With that she turned and sauntered her way back to Solas.

He looked up; his face burning at the fact Solas had just watched him stare at the Inquisitor’s ass like some horny teenager. Maker, could this situation be any more embarrassing? He thought as he nodded once to Solas, hastily retreating to his office to slip up to the loft above.

Cullen stripped quickly, haphazardly jerking his armor off until he was in nothing but his smalls. He was still hard from her kiss, the way she had melted against him. It was nothing compared to what he had felt in the Fade because he knew this was real. He took hold of his throbbing length, running his thumb over the head to smear the precum that beaded there as he thought of bending her backwards over his desk.

The way she had moaned whenever he said her name. The way her small hand had clutched him so possessively as she took his mouth. He pumped his hand faster, closing his eyes as he recalled the taste of her, still lingering on his tongue. He wanted to run his tongue over every inch of her smooth skin. She may have been on top of him but her small body begged him to take control.

In his mind he forced her down, ripping at her breeches and making her squirm beneath his gaze. He was panting heavily, stroking himself harder as he imagined what it would be like to take her. She would be tight, tighter than a human woman, and blissfully warm. He came silently – having had a life with little privacy made him take his pleasure with as little noise as possible.

He could not help but wonder what she would sound like in bed. From the way she had been moaning over him it meant that she would be vocal. The though of her begging him to fuck her harder and that sultry tone she had used earlier made his cock twitch back to life, already growing hard.

Shutting his eyes he groaned, whatever was happening between him and Nialla needed to hurry or he would go mad with desire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's a little unreasonable that the game basically says Hawke abandoned his lover when he left Kirkwall so in my version Fenris has been at his side the entire time. Because when your broody lover says he'd follow you anywhere you are not getting rid of him.
> 
> Dareth shiral = "safe journey"/"farewell"


	11. Nialla's Past

Solas

Her demeanor changed when the Commander left. She gave a mad sort of smile that reminded him more of Sera as she spoke, “I think he has a crush on me.” Her expression darkened as she watched me. She moved fluently, a motion that spoke of practice as she sat down on the floor, staring up. “Solas…I wished to talk to you about something…” Her eyes gleamed from the flickering light of the candle. It may have been too dark for the Commander’s eyes but the lighting was perfect for us.

The seriousness in her tone was unusual, concerning. I forced my mind to calm. “You may speak to me about anything, lethallan.”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing it as she set her thoughts in order. Her mind churning was almost a physical thing behind her vibrant eyes. Vibrant eyes which watered as she spoke, “There was a clan in the Exalted Plains.”

Was she forced to confront them? Had they said something to upset her? My muscles tightened at that, they were blind fools if they did not see her reasons and the validation for joining the Inquisition. They should be honored that she was its leader. She must have seen my anger. So many of my emotions seem to shine through when I speak with her.

“They were very hospitable,” The statement bore some half-truth to it, likely that they had accepted her presence only after she had done some menial tasks for them. “One of them even joined us. But…” She shook her head, closing her eyes and taking a calming breath. “I miss my clan, hahren.” Her statement made my stomach twist but the title helped ease me. It was meant to be somewhat of a jest at first. She often commented on how I behaved like a clan elder.

“Perhaps we should get you up to your chambers, da’vhenan.” I kept my voice low, aware of the floors above us and how easy it would be for her voice to travel. As much as I wished for her to confide in me I wanted to keep our conversation private.

She nodded, her jaw tightening with her lip still between her teeth. I offered her my hand and she took it, though with the way she stood she did not need it. It was a comfort for her to be physical so when I pulled her through the empty halls I did not pull my hand from her grasp. She swayed slightly more than usual when she walked, letting her free hand rest against stone when it was available.

We stopped as I shut the door that separated the main hall from the flight of stairs that lead up to her quarters. She stared up, “I love Josephine,” The tone in her voice very heavily implied a ‘but’, “But did she really have to put me in a tower like some shem princess?” I chuckled at that, watching her sway even as she stood still. “Do you think anyone would notice if I just slept here?”

“It is highly likely,” I supplied for her. She chewed her lip, making no move to mount the stairs before us.

Sighing, I slipped one of her arms around my shoulders, sweeping her up easily in my arms. She let out a gasp at the sudden change but when she found my eyes I could see the trust in her expression. Exerting my will I stepped through the Fade, rippling and folding it so that it overlapped and in one step we were in her chambers.

She blinked a few times, her addled brain likely taking a moment to process what had happened. It was a blessing that she behaved so well when drunk. “I think I picked the wrong specialization. Is it too late to change?”

Laughing I set her down on her bed, “What is wrong, da’vhenan, do you not enjoy training with me?”

Her answering smile was radiant, “Lethallin, of course, I love it when you beat the crap out of me with veil strikes and stonefists. I love it almost as much as returning the favor.” 

Ever since Helaine taught her to be a Knight-Enchanter she had been adamant in pestering me about Arcane Warriors. I had reluctantly agreed to train her. Though it was far more enjoyable than I had imagined it. She only partially exaggerated, our barriers blocked most of the real damage, but we had both become better healers with our sparring. Vivienne had sneered at the fact I was “polluting” the specialty, but only at first. I did not know what the Inquisitor had said to her. All I knew was that whenever Nialla would look up from our training the enchanter would smile at her with such warmth and approval it often felt like she was her teacher, taking pride in every new thing she learned.

“You know I would never take any pleasure in hurting you.” I tried to be diplomatic.

She snorted at that, “You love besting me, hahren.”

“I love teaching you, lethallan.” She was willing and eager to learn of her history, real history that had not been distorted by fantasy and time. Not to mention that she was a studious pupil, quick and bright.

Her mischievous smile softened at my statement, “Ma seranas.” She shifted on her bed so that she was lying on her side, scooting back to give me room to sit should I wish it.

“What do you miss about your clan?”

She swallowed thickly and the same wet sheen covered her eyes. It was the first time I had ever seen her so close to tears. “I just…I miss everything about it. The safety…I miss the da’len, the scouting, and…” Her voice waivered, breaking off as she stared at the fireplace, her eyes fixing to something beyond. Sitting carefully on the bed beside her I exerted my will, letting the fire start small as not to jar her. It quickly filled out, casting the room in long, jerking shadows.

“Is there nothing…” No one, “Special you miss?” I knew she understood me, as so few had ever. She was under no obligation to answer me either way but I did not wish to pry if she was not ready to give.

“Immeral,” Her voice was so quiet the crackling of the fire nearly drowned out her words, even to my ears. “He was…” She laughed but it was bitter, angry. Tears trailed down her cheeks and it killed me to watch them. Unsure of what to do I set my hand on her shoulder. Physical contact always seemed to calm her and it did not fail in this case. She smiled up at me, the anger vanishing from her face as quickly as it came, leaving only the sadness. “None of us knew where he came from, not really.

“He never shared it with anyone but the Keeper, but he let him join the clan. Our keeper had told us that Immeral’s past was his own. We never questioned it. We did not trust him, though the Keeper wanted us to…”

She grew quiet in her tale. Her eyes were far away again and I could see her re-living that time, it pulled her in, away from me. My hand on her shoulder tightened, “How were you to trust a stranger who did not trust you?” I reasoned gently. She still had regret in her eyes but it dimmed.

Nodding, she continued. “He trained with our hunters. He was not as quick, a little too loud in the underbrush…but he was very strong. Stronger than anyone I had ever known. And he made a better Dalish than most of the clan.” Her last sentence made her smile. “He could recite the hahren’s stories verbatim. He never spoke of his life from before, but I could see something in his face every time we would allow shems to trade with us. Like he was preparing to leave at any wrong move.

“The other hunters…they would often joke around when they would scout the forests and caves but they always kept their wits about them, almost always. Bandits attacked when they were doing some stupid challenge amongst themselves. Immeral was injured in protecting another hunter. Our clan’s healer had gone off to one of the shem cities for supplies so when the scouts came back with Immeral I was the one to tend to him.” The sheer look of adoration in her eyes made me flush. Something inside me whispering a desire for her to look at me in such away.

“I stayed with him for two days, by myself in one of the Aravels, keeping him alive. People only intruded to bring me supplies, not wanting to break my concentration. By the time he was finally healed I was so tired…I had never been so tired in my life. When he awoke he was wild, frightened, delirious from an infection I had only just managed to get rid of. He pinned me, hand at my throat. I could not defend myself with my magic, and I was too tired to force him off even if I could have.

“So…” She was smiling now, laughing at herself as she looked at the fire with mirth dancing in her eyes. “I grabbed his ear, what we do to da’len when they are being bad. I think it shocked him more than anything. I will never forget the look on his face when he released me.” Her tears flowed without her notice, trailing down her throat slowly while some dripped off to wet the sheets. “He was apologetic, shocked, amused…it was the first time I’d seen him laugh. He was always so guarded. And imagine it, hahren, I had been focusing on this…practically a corpse for two days and suddenly he had exploded into life.” Her words were mystified as she trailed her eyes up to me.

“I imagine it is not unlike how it felt when I first saw you awake and fighting at Cassandra’s side.” Before I had made the conscious decision my fingers were trailing in her hair, absently pulling it lose from its braid that had been draped over her shoulder.

She was small, average for an elf, but I was tall for an elf, almost as tall as the Commander but when her hand pulled mine away from her hair I felt much smaller. I found that I was holding my breath, waiting to hear the rest of her tale. She seemed oblivious, tracing the patterns of creases in my hand delicately, making me tremble.

“What happened then?” I prompted. Her eyes swept up to me, blinking several times before she seemed to remember what she was saying. “Our healer returned within the hour. She was surprised to see him fully healed. She and our Keeper decided that it would be best for him to rest awhile longer, but he hated sitting still. I noticed his eyes had started tracking me, like a predator watching its prey. It was…unsettling. I confronted him, angry, and to my surprise he shied away. I softened then. Even though he was not to join the hunters, I offered him a place at my side, scouting the forest and collecting herbs.

“He was…paranoid at first, but he learned to read the forest gradually. It was not something he could force and listening seemed to calm him. I was upset when he returned to his duties but he always made time to come with me or bring me back herbs from places only the hunters were allowed. Time passed, I was…approached by another hunter who wished to bond with me. By all standards he was a good match for me, but I turned him down. He wanted to know why. When I told him it was because of Immeral he was angry. 

“The Keeper was open to taking in outside elves but it was near impossible for them to prove themselves enough to be bonded. They would have to be adults in the eyes of the clan.” Her smile was rueful as she ran her thumb over he vallaslin. “Immeral respected the creators but…he was to close to me, shared too many of my doubts about them. I had never voiced them, but when the Keeper approached him about it…he said he did not want the markings. It was an insult. The Keeper was offering him a place as a Dalish and he had turned him down.

“The Keeper, the hunters…” Another pause. She sat up on the bed, her legs tucked partially under her. Her voice had broken off and she was fighting with her emotions. I pulled her closer to me, tucking her body against mine. Her head nuzzled into my chest as she shook in my arms. It took her several minutes before she continued. “We’re supposed to protect our own. Guards from one of the towns came to the edge of our camp. They were looking for him. And the Keeper…he just gave him up, like a beast up to slaughter. He didn’t even see it coming.

“The Keeper insisted it was what was best for the clan. It was not the first time he mad me…question his leadership. The Keeper could be shrewd, manipulative – I had always thought it was for the best, but…” She shook her head, apparently a story for another time. “I went to the settlement with his sword in my hand and I ordered them to bring their guards. I was ready. I was furious. I had plans to murder the entire town in my furry…and it must have shown.

“The guards approached me unarmed. It…settled me. I had seen this man cut down my lover but…in that instance I could see it as a chain of events. It was not by his own doing that Immeral had died. Everyone was guilty of it. If I did not kill the Keeper then I had no right to kill this shem. Instead we spoke. He showed me the letter my Keeper had sent him. My clan had betrayed Immeral, and I had been so blinded by my affection that I had not seen it coming.” I could feel her hand tracing over the jawbone that I kept on as she shook her head. “I do not miss my clan, but I miss what I thought it was. He…reminds me of Immeral.”

My hands tightened around her, “The Commander?”

She let out a low laugh at that, “No, Fenris.”

“Is that why you let yourself get to this state?” Her words had been rough from more than emotion. I was not naïve enough to think she would have told me this story in such depth had she been sober.

“That elf knows more about the Qun than the Creators.” She laughed finally pulling away enough to look up at me. “Seeing Fenris with Hawke…it hurt, to know I could have saved Immeral from his past the way Hawke did for Fenris.”

“You cannot truly blame yourself for the past.”

She smiled, “I have accepted it…but…seeing them tonight.”

“I think it is past time for you to rest, da’vhenan.” My own voice came out low and rough. She blamed herself for a past she could not change or ever truly accept, the irony of our situation was not lost on me.

“Will you stay?” She had already started pulling away, lying back down and looking to me with expectant, pleading eyes.

“And cause all sorts of unseemly rumors?” It was a jest. I did not truly wish to force this temptation upon myself, but if it eased her mind then I would stay regardless of what anyone had to say about it.

She rolled her eyes in response, “Sera stays over all the time.”

I slipped my necklace beneath my top shirt so that it did not pull on the fabric as I removed it. I pulled the cover back from underneath her so that the cold that wound its way in from the mountains would not disturb us. Slipping into the bed beside her was like second nature and I pulled the covers back up over us. It was the first time I noticed how cold she had gotten as she shivered slightly and molded her form against mine, already half asleep.

Sleep pulled at me and I snuffed the fire before letting myself slip off to the sound of her even, steady breathing.

~

Cullen

I had only meant to check on her. Leliana, Josephine, Cassandra, and I often came and went from the Inquisitor’s quarters while she was not out in the field. Training for the soldiers had already ended and the sun had been up for hours by the time I went to check on her.  
+++  
Solas had been sitting at her desk as if it were his own and when he saw me approach he cast some sort of spell. Maker if I still had my Templar abilities. He set down the book he had been reading and walked over to me. When I had tried to speak I found my words silenced, smothered by the air.

He gestured out to the battlements and that I should follow him. The urge to strike out at the apostate made my muscles ache. “What in the-“

“Commander, I can assure you nothing sexual happened between myself and the Inquisitor.” His words were stern as he stared me down, his hands clasped in his typical fashion behind his back as he spoke. “However, she has had a rough night and I would advise against raising your voice and waking her.” I hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t raising his voice. He spoke in a whisper but it was commanding, reproachful.

As much as I wanted to accuse him of lying I tempered myself. “I apologize, I have no right to question you…or the Inquisitor.” I knew I sounded pitiful but voicing the sentiment was painful and I could not keep the hurt from my voice, as much as I wanted to.

He bowed slightly, “Thank you.” He looked taken aback by my apology but he recovered quickly, slipping back into his wise manner the same way an Orlesian noble slipped on a mask. “But I would be surprised if you were not angry at the thought that I had taken advantage of her.”

I could feel my face heat at that. Maker, had I really just insinuated that her closest friend was capable of taking advantage of her while she was drunk? “I’m sorry,” This one was far more heartfelt as I recalled my feelings when other Templars had expected me capable of taking advantage of the Tranquil.

“Our beloved Inquisitor was simply…out of sorts last night. Her memories way heavily on her, as I’m sure yours weigh heavily on your own mind, Commander.” I swallowed at his tone; it was an unspoken threat to let her demons lie. He nodded, seeing that we understood each other. He was not intimidating as an apostate, even in a fight I was certain I could best him…but I knew the way Nialla listened to him.  
+++  
I had excused myself before I made a complete enemy of Solas. Everything in me wanted to go to her, make sure she was well, force her to make a move one way or another. For now though I had to wait. I resigned myself to sitting at my desk, going over reports slowly as I decided how to get her to respond to me.

I’d already decided that I wanted her. Maybe it was because she reminded me of Roslyn and I had loved her dearly, but my feelings for Nialla lit a fire beneath my skin that pulled me to action. I wanted her far more than I had wanted anything in my life. Even last night I had thought of urging her to my loft and pulling her beneath the sheets, but if I had then I would have ravished her. I would not be content just to hold her close without something sexual happening.

Thoughts of Nialla buzzed through my head for the remainder of the day. Her moans and sighs and the way her body had sung when I touched her. The blush that had disappeared at her neck…shit, Rutherford, focus.


	12. Avoiding Hangovers

Cullen

He had only meant to check on her. Her advisors often came and went from her quarters while she was not out in the field. Training for the soldiers had already ended and the sun had been up for hours by the time he had decided to check on her.

+++

Solas had been sitting at her desk as if it were his own and when he saw the Commander approach he cast some sort of spell. Maker, Cullen gritted his teeth, if only he still had his Templar abilities he could render the apostate defenseless. As it was Solas set down the book he had been reading and stalked over to him, looking completely at ease in such an intimate setting with the Inquisitor.

Solas gestured out to the battlements and that Cullen should follow him. The urges to strike out at the apostate made his muscles ache, forcing himself to hold back. “What in the-“

“Commander, I can assure you nothing sexual happened between myself and the Inquisitor.” His words were stern as he stared Cullen down, his hands clasped in his typical fashion behind his back as he spoke, making a show that he was not being defensive. “However, she has had a rough night and I would advise against raising your voice and waking her.” It took the Commander a moment to realize Solas had not raised his voice. The apostate spoke in a hushed whisper but his tone was hard enough for Cullen to recognize the reprimand for what it was.

His tone forced Cullen to give pause, though his blood still boiled at the thought of the apostate having been with her all night. “I apologize, I have no right to question you…or the Inquisitor.” His voice was pained, pitiful. The Inquisitor could invite whomever she wished into her quarters and it should have no affect over him.

Solas bowed slightly, “Thank you.” He looked taken aback by the Commander’s apology but he recovered quickly, slipping back into his wise manner the same way an Orlesian noble slipped on a mask. “But I would be surprised if you were not angry at the thought that I had taken advantage of her.”

Cullen turned a little red at that, thinking on what he must sound like. Maker, had I really just insinuated that her closest friend was capable of raping her while she was drunk? He thought to himself as he shook the thought and the feelings from his mind. “I’m sorry,” This apology was far more heartfelt. The look on Solas’ face at his accusation had not been entirely unlike the looks he felt on his own face when his “brothers” thought he would abuse the Tranquils.

“Our beloved Inquisitor was simply…out of sorts last night. Her memories way heavily on her, as I’m sure yours weigh heavily on your own mind, Commander.” Solas’ tone was an unspoken threat to let the Inquisitor’s demons lie. The apostate was uncharacteristically strong for an elf but even with magic Cullen thought he could best him should it come to it. However, Nialla listened to Solas, and so far it was unclear of how much she listened to him.

+++

Cullen had excused himself, retreating back to the confines of his office to think over the confrontation. The apostate was harsh, but he also had a look about him. Whatever his issue was, he loved Nialla, but he made it clear that he would not act on his affections – or perhaps he viewed her more as a friend.

He shuffled about the reports on his desk, flipping the new pile over to start from the oldest ones first. Cullen was already set in his mind. He did not wish to think of Solas’ strange behavior. He wanted to focus on Nialla and how to catch her interest. As he tried to read the report his eyes became unfocused, images and memories of Nialla pressed forward. Her behavior the night before coming unbidden as the thought of simply picking her up and laying her out in his bed came to mind, letting her make those soft, begging sounds while she was beneath him.

It was difficult for him to focus on work and he leaned back after a few hours of going through the exact same reports and not making progress. He had to face the matter of why he was so infatuated with the Inquisitor, it would be unfair of him to chase after her with his mind so dizzy trying to separate her and Roslyn.

Still, the fire that ignited in him when he thought of Nialla was unlike anything he had ever felt.  
~

Nialla

A cool cup was pressed to her lips the moment she began to stir. “Drink, lethallan.” Solas was speaking low, letting her hand cover his as she tilted the glass further, drinking the blissfully cold liquid within.

She let go of Solas’ hand, “I think I’ve had enough of drink for the time being, lethallin.” She quipped, her voice cracked with her words and she took the cup from him, drinking the rest to soothe her sore throat.

His magic flowed through her when he passed his hand gently through her hair, making the pounding in her head quiet to a low buzz. “Quite, do you remember last night?”

Mumbling, she rubbed her eyes, “Give me a few minutes and I might.” It all came crashing back rather quickly, how she had thrown herself at Cullen and spoken to Solas. “Lethallin…what I said last night…”

“Would not have been mentioned had you not been so upset and will not leave this room.” He said gently, leaning over her to press his lips to her forehead in comfort.

Biting her lip she nodded, “It is not something I enjoy dwelling on.”

“I understand,” She looked up at the sheer sincerity in his voice. Though he was guarded he opened up to her, if only a little, enough for her to know that the matter would truly stay between them.

“Ma serannas,” Nialla always found herself thanking Solas, apologizing to him.

He smiled at that, standing and returning to where he had apparently been sitting at her desk. Picking up his book he turned and bowed lightly to her, “Is there anything else you need of me, my Inquisitor?”

She laughed, rolling her eyes – a habit she had picked up from Sera – “No, Solas, you are free to take your leave.” She tried to sound dignified but she could not keep the teasing from her voice or the smile from her face.

He was far better at schooling his features but there was a slight smirk on his lips to let her know she had not offended him. “Very well, Inquisitor. Should you need me, you know where to find me.” He turned his back but seemed to pause. “You should know that your Commander came in earlier while you were still asleep. It did not seem important, but I thought you might want to know.”

Solas looked over just in time to see Nialla avert her eyes. Her face was growing hot at the thought of having to speak with Cullen so soon and the fact Solas had referred to Cullen as "her" Commander. She nodded briefly.

He chuckled at that, finding her embarrassment amusing. “Perhaps you will think twice before throwing yourself at him next time.”

Her flush deepened, reaching up to her ears as her eyes snapped up to his. “Perhaps I will, thank you for that sage advice, hahren.” Her words were laced with sarcasm as she launched one of her pillows at him. Solas had already been pulling on his mana, fade stepping away and letting his chuckle echo as he disappeared into the void, likely back to his rotunda.

~

“That thing you said…about not getting attached to people,” She spoke to Varric softly, not wanting her words to travel.

The dwarf looked up at her curiously. “What about it?”

She bit her lip, glancing as one of the kitchen staffed walked by. “Leliana has been,” She let out a deep breath. “She blames herself for Haven, she pulled her men back, they were in danger and…”

Varric nodded, not needing a further explanation. “Inquisitor, as far as I’m concerned Haven was no one’s fault but Corypheus’.” His words were stern. She knew he had overheard her speaking with Vivienne when they first arrived at Skyhold. “The only thing we can do now is be prepared for the next attack.”

“And if we’re not?” When she spoke the question her voice was quiet for more reasons than avoiding eavesdroppers.

He looked truly taken aback by her question. She hated voicing her fears and was about to apologize for concerning him but he brought his hands together, leaning towards her over the table. “Then we do as much damage as we can for whoever comes behind us. Corypheus will not win.” What he meant was that Corypheus couldn’t win. Because tearing the Fade open would likely kill them all.

Someone cleared their throat just behind her and Varric leaned back, a cocky smile coming to his lips. “Dwarf,” Fenris looked past the Inquisitor directly at Varric.

“Broody, I’m sure you know the Inquisitor. You’re ignoring her.” When Varric looked back at Nialla she was visibly shaking. He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. “You okay there, Boss?”

She nodded, “Of course, but I needed to speak with Solas. If you’ll excuse me…” Varric nodded, waving her off. She turned so her gaze did not pass the elf on her left as she slipped to the nearby door going to the rotunda.

~

Varric

“Have I done something to offend?” He almost laughed at the bewildered expression on Fenris’ face.

Shaking his head he replied, “No more than usual, Broody.” They both watched the Inquisitor leave. She must have realized she was shaking because she seemed to pause, gathering herself. He scratched something down in his notebook.

“Is she scared of me?” Fenris had a slight smile at that and Varric noticed that the elf’s white hair did not completely obscure his eyes as it had last night. Hawke must have cut it this morning, as the elf didn’t trust anyone else to do it.

He actually did laugh at that, “Given the way she was taunting you last night, I doubt it.”

Fenris scowled, “Hawke wanted to speak with you. You told him not to walk around while the nobles were out.” Varric nodded, collecting his notebook as he stood.

~

Cullen

“You make her nervous.” Cole had appeared in the corner of Cullen’s office after a scout had just closed the door, finishing his reports for the day. “She wants to talk to you, but she doesn’t know how.”

“Cole…” He was about to say something but the spirit seemed to snap to attention.

“She is hurting…I should go.” With that he vanished. Cullen’s heart was racing at the thought of her being hurt.

~

Nialla

“Accepting but not understanding. It should make sense but it doesn’t. Why doesn’t anything ever make sense?” Cole appeared beside Solas, who had a hand on her arm, the gentle contact consoling.

Solas’ eyes cut over to Cole. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?”

“I…” Cole seemed to hesitate.

“It’s okay, Cole. With Solas it’s okay.” Nialla’s voice was quiet. She knew it upset Cole to keep things from Solas considering how much he had helped the spirit adjust to the noise of the real world.

“Wounds that fester, never fully healed, being ripped open. Seeing him hurts, knowing you could have done more. But it’s never enough; no matter what you do someone always gets hurt. You have to let it go. I can help…” He stepped closer and she flinched. Though the action had been involuntary on her part she saw how Cole paled. “I’m sorry…I…”

“Cole…” Nialla tried calling out to him but he vanished, leaving nothing in his place. She laughed tiredly. “Ir abelas, lethallin. I know how much you have been trying to help him…”

Solas took a deep breath, considering, “You will need to speak with him later. For now you should take a moment to calm yourself. Vivienne would be horrified seeing you look so shaken.”

Nialla laughed at that, “Right. Great leader of the Inquisition,” She took a deep breath, the pain still fresh in her mind as she thought about her Keeper. She had to accept one betrayal, the death of a man she loved. “I think…I want to speak with the Commander.”


	13. Chapter 13

Hawke

“We’ll need to set out for Crestwood soon.” Hawke said as soon as the Varric shut the door behind him.

“Then you’ve had word from Stroud?” Varric asked.

Hawke ran his fingers through his hair, “He won’t say anything more than the fact he needs to see us.”

“We’re lucky the Wardens haven’t found him yet. I doubt they would want to be seen with the Inquisition.”

Fenris grumbled, “You really think we can trust these people?” The elf had been twitchy since learning of the Inquisitor’s “friends”, specifically the Tevinter mage.

Varric laughed, “You really think you have a choice in the matter, Broody?” It was meant as a jest but it struck close. Fenris may have been able to walk away, but Hawke would stay as long as he could help, and it may very well get him killed, get all of them killed.

“No.”

“You trust these people, Varric?”

Varric looked at Hawke incredulously, “Would I have brought you here if I didn’t?”

Hawke nodded, “You’ll let Leliana and the Inquisitor know?” Varric nodded. “Then we’ll see you there.”

~

Cole

“She doesn’t want to forget.” Solas said quietly. Though he couldn’t see the spirit, he knew Cole wouldn’t have gone far.

“I’m sorry.” Cole sat on some of the scaffolding that had been put up. Solas was quiet for a moment, considering everything that had happened with her clan and why she had been sent away. “She isn’t angry anymore. But…understanding so much hurts. It was easy to follow, less so to lead. People die when decisions are made. People always die. She can’t help any of them any more than she could help him.”

“She does not seem so uncertain of her decisions.”

“Because they all look up to her. Steadfast, strong, sure…she has to gamble on every decision. But she missed so much before, what if she’s missing something now?” He looked at Solas for a long moment. “She knows she’s missing something about you. That you hide from her…but she doesn’t know what.”

Solas shuttered at that. “Cole…”

He shook his head, “It would only hurt her. I don’t want that.”

“I don’t want that either.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“You’ll have to tell her eventually though, won’t you?”

“Yes.” Solas nodded, “But for now – Corypheus.”

“No, for now the Commander, why are you so jealous of him? Is it because she wants him?”

Solas sighed, “That is part of it, I suppose.”

“They are whole here. You could be too.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think I will ever feel complete as I am.”

“Not enough to be what she needs, but enough to help.”

“Yes.”

~

Cullen

He had thought about going to find her, make sure she was all right. But Cole had said that he made her nervous. Still, he couldn’t seem to focus on his work so he had made his way out to the garden, taking up Dorian on his offer to play chess. The simple fact that the man was a noble should have put him on edge but the man was civil enough, being from Tevinter and all.

“You know, I’ve been reading over some of the letters sent to you by some of the Orlesian nobles.” Dorian commented after settling back in his seat.

Cullen stiffened at that, “It isn’t enough that Leliana reads my letters? Now she has to share them?”

Dorian smiled broadly, “Well, I did coax her into it. I didn’t think anything from a noble could be so bad. After all they have to keep some decorum, yes?”

“And that was enough to convince her?” He made his move, predicting the next few steps the mage might take.

“Well, I did spend some time entertaining her with my guesses. What I might say if I were trying to seduce the Inquisition’s strapping Commander.” He chuckled at the way said Commander shifted uncomfortably. “I was a bit upset that she said the letters were vastly out of my league. So of course she had to prove it. I must say, I am shocked at the amount of…interest you kindle in some nobles.”

Cullen laughed at that. “A mild way of putting it.”

“Yes, well, it has certainly given me a few things I wouldn’t mind trying out for myself. Duke Cyril de Montfort is one of my absolute favorites, I must see if Nialla will bring me with her to Halamshiral so I can speak with him.”

“If it gets him to stop sending me letters then be my guest.”

Dorian made his move, leaning forward to rest his head in his hand. “Oh, Commander, wouldn’t you want to join us? I think it would be most beneficial for the Inquisition…and to work out some of that tension of yours.”

He was used to the mage’s not so subtle passes at him but when paired with the scandalous suggestions from the Duke, it made him cough up wine that he had swallowed incorrectly.

“But you know, I can completely understand if you’re saving yourself for Nialla. With the way you watch her it’s a wonder you haven’t succumbed to your baser urges and just ravished her already.” He hummed to himself, shifting one of his pieces. “You know, she might actually like that. She does seem very au naturel, doesn’t she?”

It was a move he had been expecting and it took very little time for Cullen to move one of his own pieces, claiming one of Dorian’s. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Dorian laughed at that, “Oh, my dear Commander, you are joking, aren’t you? Play coy all you like, I’m simply surprised she hasn’t jumped you.” At the look on Cullen’s face, Dorian’s eyes widened. “Has she tried to jump you?”

“She was drunk…” He kept the blush from his face but only just. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly needing something to do with his hands.

“Perhaps not as much so as you might think, Commander. That woman can put away far more than her fair share of drink. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her drunk.”

“Whatever the case, she definitely was last night.”

Dorian hummed, “I wonder why.” It had been the first time Cullen had even thought about it. He had never heard of her getting drunk before now. “You know, Cullen, you are free to forfeit if you can’t play and talk at the same time.” He hadn’t even noticed Dorian had made his move and taken one of his pieces. “In fact, your time may even be better spent with a certain elf…”

Cullen made his move. He had played enough games with Dorian to know this one would not last much longer. The mage was getting cocky. “I have no issues multitasking.”

“Ah, then perhaps two elves? She does seem rather close to the apostate hobo, but he doesn’t seem like the type to share.” With nothing to quip back at the mage Cullen simply waited for his turn. “Is it in your nature to be quiet? It must drive your lovers mad.”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Cullen sighed. “Why is it that you only ever talk about sex, Dorian?”

The mage seemed to think about that. He shrugged, “Because I find it something very enjoyable to pass time, I suppose. We could talk about something else if you would like.”

“Please.”

“Is it very common in the south for someone such as yourself to be in the position you are now?”

“Someone such as myself?”

“A commoner, someone who abandoned an Order they pledged their life to.”

Cullen stiffened, “I left for a very good reason.”

“Yes, but you’re still only a commoner, surely there was someone with more experience to lead the Inquisition’s armies. Why would Cassandra seek you out?”

“You would have to ask her, Dorian.”

“Varric and I have a running bet on the matter, you know.” Dorian confided. “Could I convince you to lie to him so that I can win?”

Cullen looked at the mage curiously, “What’s the bet?”

Dorian grinned, “He says they keep you around to look pretty. I think it’s because you have the Inquisitor wrapped around your finger.”

“You know your glibness does you no credit.”

“Are you sassing me, Commander? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Why do I even…?” Maker, he hoped she hadn’t been there for the entirety of their conversation. “Inquisitor!”

He moved to get up but Dorian’s taunt stayed him. “Leaving, are you, does this mean I win?”

She smiled at both of them, “Please, don’t stop on my account.” He wanted to, wished to speak to her in private. Luckily for him, Dorian wasn’t much of an opponent when he was busy gossiping.

“Alright, your move.”

“You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory. You’ll feel much better.”

“Really, because I just won, and I feel fine.” He smiled at Dorian trying to telepathically communicate that he wasn’t kept around just as an ornament to entertain Orlesian nobles.

“Don’t get smug, there’ll be no living with you.” Dorian grumbled. He probably wanted to say more on their previous discussion but decided to keep it to himself while the Inquisitor was within earshot.

The man was always taunting him. It was hard not to feel smug. “You wanted to speak with me, Inquisitor?” He would have offered to play a game but he was to on edge to try to walk her through the rules…again.

“Yes,” They stood, making their way back to his office. “You and Dorian are getting along well?”

“He likes to gossip but he’s decent at chess.” He could see she was on edge from the way she walked, putting more energy into her step than what was normal. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded, staying silent on the matter, waiting until they returned to his office. “I apologize for my behavior last night, Commander.”

He leaned against his desk, “Do you regret it?”

Her ears tinted red, “I regret throwing myself at you while I was drunk. It was stupid of me. I was upset and emotional and I had more than what I should have. The next time I proposition you I promise to be completely sober.”

“The next time?” His eyes widened a little at that. “Do you…” He coughed, “When were you planning on trying again?”

The blush reached her cheeks. “Well, I thought it would be uncouth of me to try again so soon after my first blunder.” 

He moved away from his desk and moved into her personal space. “Well, we certainly can’t have the Inquisitor acting in such an unrefined manner.” He was close enough he could feel her warmth but was careful not to touch. Dorian had been right in one aspect, he did want to ravish her, but he would not instigate it. He wanted her panting and begging for him.

She nodded, her pupils widening with lust. “Of course…but, then again, I get so little time at Skyhold. It wouldn’t be prudent for me to waste time.”

Cullen hummed at that, “If you have made a decision, it may be best to act on it while you can. You should be decisive, but there should be no doubt.”

Standing so close he could hear her swallow, “And if there is doubt?”

He pulled himself away slightly, studying her. She was apprehensive. “Some decisions can’t be changed. Especially when it involves others. As your Commander I would advise you to be sure of your decisions.”

“What if I’m never sure?”

“Then perhaps you should entrust the decision to someone else.”

She laughed at that, a nervous, breathy laugh. Her breathing was faster now, excited, “Could I trust you with it? To tell me when it’s okay to proposition you again?”

“No time like the present.” He couldn’t blame her for being breathless. His entire body was pleasantly warm and he could feel his erection pressing slightly against his leathers. The smell of her so close – earthy and floral – was intoxicating.

“Cullen,” He bit back a groan at the sound of his name on her lips, she already sounded like she was begging for him.

“Yes?” His voice was astonishingly even as he played at ignorance.

“Ir emma nuvenin,” The words were quick, he didn’t even manage to untangle them before her hands were in his hair, pulling him down as she lifted on her toes to press her lips to his. Her body leaned against his and he cursed himself for having his armor on. His hands instinctively wrapped around her, feeling the curve of her waist down to her round ass. She moaned into him as he kissed her back, matching her hunger.

When he pulled back she was breathing hard, he had some semblance of control, able to control his breathing easily enough. “You had something you wished to talk to me about, I believe?”

“Fucking human,” She swore without venom, “I want you.” His hands on her ass tightened, pulling her hips closer and making her moan, rolling into him.

“Want me for what, Inquisitor?”

“Creators, Cullen, if you don’t fuck me senseless right now I will tie you down and fuck you myself.”

He forced a heated kiss on her, taking control and pulling away, making her growl. “As amazing as that sounds, Nialla, I think I’ll be the one in charge tonight.” With that he picked her up easily, letting her wrap her legs around his waist as he moved them over to his desk. She was already pulling at the ties to his armor greedily.

~

Nialla

Cullen laid her out on his desk, his hands trailing up her sides to her arms, capturing her wrists and forcing them over her head as he leaned over her. She bucked underneath him, pulling at his bottom lip with her teeth when he pulled away. “Leave them,” His voice was a low growl as his grip tightened on her wrists. The commands only made her hotter.

He pulled his armor off teasingly, smiling as she her eyes caught on his body as he pulled each piece off. He let his armor clatter to the floor. His hands went to his shirt but something passed in his eyes, some doubt that he hid quickly as his hands moved to her clothes. He had her shirt unbuttoned in a matter of seconds, letting his hands drag over her bare skin as he slipped it off of her. She helped him pull it off her arms but put them back over her head when it dropped.

“Good girl,” He kissed her jaw, trailing his lips down to her throat as his hands unlaced her breast band. The rough texture of his stubble was strange but it felt right. She gasped when he pulled her breast band away. He pulled back, his eyes roving over her smooth skin. “Maker’s breath…” She wanted to strip him, feel his skin against hers. He seemed to be thinking the same thing because he slipped his tunic up over his head, letting it join his armor on the floor.

She licked her lip, pulling it between her teeth and biting down on it. His chest was covered sparsely in light blond hair, trailing down to force her eyes to the bulge in his breaches. She didn’t mean to let out a small whimper, but it slipped past her lips. She looked up to him quickly. There had been that same doubt in his eyes briefly before it turned into hunger.

He unlaced her breeches, pulling them down in one movement along with her smalls. When he let out a low growl she could feel herself getting wetter for him. “Cullen…” Her voice barely slipped out, a pleading whine. “Touch me, please…”

They were both panting and his eyes were wild but his hands were agonizingly slow. Ever the calculated tactician, he dragged his hands up her thighs. She expected him to strip, instead he knelt between her spread legs, kissing her inner thigh and making her buck. She could feel his hot breath, followed by the scrape of his teeth before he bit down.

She cried out, trembling from the sensation. “Are you okay?” His voice was deep and she could feel it against her skin, his lips brushing her as he spoke.

Nialla moaned, “Creators, yes.”

He chuckled at her response, trailing kisses up to her core. He had been with a few elves, enough to know that she would be bare. He kissed her lips once, growling at how wet she was. Her hips bucked when she felt his tongue part her folds. She wanted to submit to this but her body was to wound up. Not that it mattered, Cullen’s hands kept her spread and still. The slight scratch of his stubble felt perfect against her sensitive flesh.

“Cullen, more, please.” She wasn’t above begging. He had been keeping his licks light, barely pressing past her folds, just enough to make her want more without working her to her release. When he pressed his tongue to her clit she moaned louder, her arms tensing and trembling with the effort of keeping them in place.

~

Cullen

He moved his hand down to unlace his breeches, loosening them to give his cock some room. He didn’t bother with touching himself though; he was already too strung out on the taste of her. He slipped one finger inside her to the third knuckle. She was so slick that he didn’t even need to loosen her. She bucked again, begging for more.

The way her voice sounded, strained and shaky as she writhed and begged. He worked a second finger into her, working out her inner muscles as they began to flutter around him. “Ready to come?” He slowed down, pulling his mouth away.

“Creators, yes, Cullen, please.”

He smiled at that; her head was tilted back, her breasts trembling with every breath. “I need to hear something from you first, Nialla.”

“Anything,”

He chuckled, still dragging his fingers lazily along her inner walls. “Tell me what you want.”

She didn’t even hesitate as she breathed out, “You. Please, I need you, Cullen.” Her hips were rocking against his fingers.

“Good girl,” Biting her outer folds gently he went back to work, stroking her engorged g-spot as he sucked at her clit. She let out a choked off cry as she tensed, her body spasming around his fingers. He pulled his mouth away but kept his fingers moving, helping her though her peak.

She collapsed back against his desk, breathless and damp from a light sheen of sweat that was cooling quickly. When he stood up her eyes instantly trailed down his chest to his cock, standing proudly at attention and inches from her 

His hand caressed her thigh absently, “Are you okay?” It was a serious question but he couldn’t help but chuckle at her satisfied grin, humming gently instead of replying with words. “Nialla,” He swallowed, letting his eyes rove over her, the image of her panting, exhausted from pleasure from what he had done to her, her body loose and stretched out on his desk. “I…” Now that he had her laid out in front of him, ready for him to just…shift forward, now he doubted it. Maker, he could kill himself for this indecision. He closed his eyes, pushing out the demands he wanted to make of her. He had no claim on her.

He needed her to belong to him, to live through all of this madness. But right now wasn’t about forever. For her it was – what? It didn’t matter. He wanted her and he would take what he could get. When he opened his eyes maybe a second or two had passed and she was still dazed from her orgasm. Maker, she was beautiful. He pressed the head of his cock to her folds, dragging it along her folds without entering to soak himself in her juices. The heat made his breath catch.

Watching her carefully for any negative emotion he slipped into her gently. She tightened around him instantly, making him groan as he forced himself to go slow. He was breathing hard, both hands gripping her thighs with enough force to bruise. “Fuck, Nialla, you feel perfect…”

“Cullen…more, I want all of you.”

He growled, “Don’t worry, you’ll get it.” He pulled out and rocked back in, sinking in a little more with each slow, sure thrust. Her body tensed on the fifth thrust, her brows furrowing. One of his hands went to her breast, flicking a nipple with his thumb and making her back arch off the table. “Relax, sweetheart.”

He gave her a few more shallow thrusts, being sure not to go any deeper until she started bucking up into him. “Creators, I’m sorry…it’s been so long…”

“Hush,” He didn’t mind hearing she had past lovers, it even made him feel better to know she hadn’t been with anyone recently, but hearing her voice threatened to snap the last threads of control he had. Every part of his body was screaming at him to slam all the way into her. He was only half way in now and her smooth slick heat was more than he could take. She was almost too tight around him…almost.

It took him several more minutes to work his way fully into her. He leaned over her, resting his forehead on hers as he took a moment to steady himself and let her adjust. “Still okay?”

“Yes, it doesn’t hurt, it’s just… It doesn’t hurt.” He dragged himself out and slowly thrust all the way back in.

“You can move your arms,” Her hands instantly went to his lower back, her nails digging in as he started with slow, hard thrusts that took him all the way out before slamming back in. Her legs slipped around his waist and her hands shifted down to his ass, pulling him deeper inside of her. “Maker, Nialla, I can’t…”

One of her hands went to his hair and pulled his head down so she could whisper to him, “Fuck me, Commander, now.”

He let out a low growl at that, his hands moving to her waist as he pulled himself away slightly so he could slam her down on him as he roughly rammed into her. She let out pleas and whimpers that only made him fuck her harder. He couldn’t control himself. Every time he went balls deep in her it was bliss and he could feel her muscles starting to clench around him. He knew he was being rough but he couldn’t seem to rein it in.

Not that Nialla was complaining. Her legs were firm around him and her nails bit into his ass causing a wonderful bite of pain, making him thrust harder. The only sounds echoing in the room were there slick bodies coming together and her gasping moans and cries that quieted as she struggled for breath. He wanted to make her beg for release but his brain kept him quiet, not wanting to make this more than sex in case she wanted out later.

“Cullen,” Maker, he could hear how close she was in her voice, feel it in the way she fluttered around him. He was ready to explode with how wound up he was. Slipping his hand between their bodies he let the rhythm of his hips rock his thumb against her clit. There was a difference between feeling her come apart and watching her come apart. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, her entire body lifting off the desk, her hair wild around her as she let the pleasure take over.

She clenched around him like a vice and he got out two more erratic thrusts before he sank as deep as he could, exploding inside of her as her body milked him dry.

He collapsed on top of her for a moment before remembering she would probably be crushed by him. Her hands moved from his ass to his jaw, moving his head lazily as her lips sought out his. She laughed a little, “You okay?”

Cullen smiled, dragging his mouth down to her neck to worry the skin there between his teeth. She hummed contentedly, running her hands through his disheveled hair. “Perfect,” He mumbled quietly.

~

Nialla

They lay on his desk for a while, him trailing kisses along her neck and shoulders while she tried not to be a pile of goo. She had been running her fingers through his wavy hair but as she grew more and more tired her hands had slowed until eventually they stilled completely. “Ready to go to sleep?” Cullen’s voice was a rumbling hum. 

She wasn’t quite feeling up to the walk back to her rooms. She could barely feel her body and there were more than a few stairs between her and her bed. “Too tired.” He chuckled at that and when he moved she could feel his limp cock slip out of her, letting their combined juices leak out. Her body shivered at the loss.

Strong arms picked her up like she was nothing. It was a warmth she remembered, the same strong embrace that saved her from the cold after Haven. He held her with one arm and she vaguely registered they went up a ladder. She had one arm around his shoulders while the other played with the hair on his chest absently.

The arms placed her on top of cool sheets. A cool cloth ran over every inch of skin, cleaning her gently. “Maker, I’m sorry.” Warm hands traced her waist, trailing down to her thighs.

~

It was still too early for everyone to be awake. The sky she could see through the hole in the ceiling was dark, stars bright as ever. When she sat up her body ached, protesting her activities from the night before. Cullen was still sleeping next to her, looking more relaxed than she had ever seen him.

Their clothes were arranged on a desk on the opposite end of the room. The thought of staying passed through her mind briefly but she had already put off everyone yesterday. It was a miracle no one had intruded on them last night. Cullen deserved to get some sleep. She dressed quickly, quietly. 

Creators she wanted to stay but Josephine would probably have a panic attack trying to quiet the rumors. Not that she would mind the rumors, half the nobles in Orlais thought Iron Bull was her lover. And she didn’t even want to think about the ones of her and Solas.

She timed the patrols well enough to slip to the side entrance that lead up to her quarters from the battlements. The stairs were far easier now that she had a good night’s sleep. A letter sat on her desk, propped up against the halla statue that Josephine had put in her room.

A letter from Varric, she sighed to herself, time to leave again it would seem. Her face heated, happy that Cullen had decided not to wait.

~

Cullen

He sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. If her scent wasn’t still fresh in his sheets he could almost have convinced himself that last night was just a dream. Then he recalled the bruises and marks he had left on her. Some very primitive part of himself was pleased that he had left marks on her that would let other people know she was his. The more logical part argued that he had hurt her, this was wrong, and that even though she had those marks the night before – she was a mage – they probably wouldn’t be there now.

Not that he would know if they were there are not. He was thankful that he hadn’t told her the truth of what he felt last night. The sun wasn’t fully up yet. He might be able to speak with her before someone else needed her. With that thought he pulled on his breeches and tunic, the same methodical process he preformed every morning. His mind wandered as he slipped each piece of armor in place.

Why had she left without even waking him? Did she want to forget about last night? He had just gotten down to his office when the door opened, a scout slipping in. “Commander,” He handed him a letter, “From Sister Nightingale.”

“Thank you, dismissed.” The scout nodded and left promptly, likely doing a dozen other things before the sun was up.

~

“Solas,” The elf was one of the few people he knew would be awake at such an hour.

“What can I do for you, Commander?” Solas asked without looking away from his painting.

“Nialla left for Crestwood?”

“To meet Hawke’s warden friend, yes.”

“And she didn’t think to inform me of this herself?” It wasn’t until that comment that the apostate turned to regard him.

“Why would she tell you personally?” Solas asked curiously, reading his anger and confusion clearly. He chuckled to himself. “Would that have anything to do with the fact she slept with you, Commander?”

Cullen rubbed his neck nervously, “I…yes. I thought she would at least consult with me on the matter.”

“That would be unlikely, but I can see how you might think that.”

“I don’t see how you find this funny, Solas. She could die out there and she didn’t even tell me she was leaving.”

Solas let this amusement fade, “Commander, her survival in this has never been guaranteed. She likely simply wanted to let you sleep. It is not as though you won’t get the chance to speak with her before she returns.”

~

Nialla

“He is upset.” Cole spoke as they rode side-by-side. The spirit had picked one of the Harts as his mount. He said they had more personality than the horses or dracolisks, and she couldn't deny that the animals - all animals - really got along with Cole.

“What? Who?” For once, she didn’t have a clue as to what the spirit was referring to.

“Upset and unsure, he is sad when you leave but it is different now. Grieving over something lost. Are you lost to him?” Cole seemed confused by what he was hearing.

“Lost to who, Cole?”

He blinked, clearing his mind, “Cullen.”

She tilted her head, “Why would I be lost to him?”

Cole was quiet for a long moment, “I don’t know. It’s hard to listen this far away. But he was so loud a moment ago.”

"I'll deal with it tonight, Cole." She supplied gently.

He nodded, "I'm sorry...that I scared you. Before."

"I wasn't scared of you, Cole. I was scared of what you might do. Do you understand the difference?"

"Not really."

She sighed at that, not fully understanding either, only that she was never scared of the spirit himself. "I need to remember him. It helps me remember that I should be better. No one is perfect, Cole, but we can all learn to be better from the past."

"I understand that."

"Good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the smut for the smut fic. (There will be more...oh, yes there will be MORE)...anyways, sorry for the delayed updates lately. Chapter 11 will be re-written soon (within the next week maybe? (April 17-24) Before May definitely.


	14. Chapter 14

Nialla

When she awoke she was disoriented, her body trembling as she sobbed. Cole’s hand was pressed to her forehead and he looked more than a little upset as he regarded her. “Better?” His voice had no effect on the stillness of the night.

“What…” She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, feel adrenaline course through her veins. She had been scared but for the life of her she could not remember why.

“You had a bad dream.” Cole supplied gently, moving back a little from her. His hat brushed against the side of the tent, making the light dent with the fabric.

To think she had been getting so good at controlling her dreams, she had to wonder what it was about that had caused her to react so violently.

“Don’t think about it.” It wasn’t just a request; she could feel her mind let the thought go. It retreated, ebbing away like a tide. How long would it be before it came back to drown her though? She felt like a da’len, scared and alone in a very alien place. She felt powerless. The leader of the Inquisition, powerless, she let out a shaky laugh at the thought. “Sometimes it’s too much. You have to let it go, you can’t change it.”

She felt the tears slip down her face and it took a moment for her to realize she was crying. “I’m sorry.” For not being strong enough, the fearless leader the Inquisition needed, she felt like a fraud.

“Leliana wouldn’t have made you Inquisitor if she didn’t think you were good enough. Just be you.”

Nodding, she smiled, “Thank you, Cole.”

He returned the smile, “Glad to help.”

~

Dorian

The elven apostate didn’t normally leave the lower level of the rotunda, but today he had ventured to the second floor and was sipping on a glass of wine comfortably in Dorian’s nook of the library.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” He and the elf had found some shaky middle ground where they weren’t aggressive to each other. Dorian respected the elf for his ability and knowledge – plus he was Nialla’s friend and it would upset her to see her friends fighting.

“You know, sometimes I harbor such hatred toward the humans for what they do to the elves.” Solas spoke loud enough so that his voice stayed between the two of them. “But it is worse when I see elves abuse their own.”

Dorian sat down across from the elf, who nodded at the empty glass that occupied the spot before the Tevinter. Pouring himself some wine Dorian spoke up, “There will always be those who take advantage and abuse their authority.”

Solas laughed bitterly at that, “Of course…” He seemed to consider something, staring at his glass as he swirled the liquid within. “You know of Nialla’s…abilities concerning the Fade?”

“At length,” Dorian admitted as he sipped the wine. It must have been from Nialla’s stash because it was robust and strong. He certainly hadn’t gotten it from the Herald’s Rest.

“She can enter another’s dreams, pull others into her own…” Dorian nodded, he had heard it before, was wondering why Solas was bringing this up now and why the elf seem so disturbed. “She can also open up her memories…things she may not be able to remember when she is awake. It is…surprisingly forceful. A swirl of emotions and thoughts…with such clarity…” He stared at the window as his voice and thoughts trailed off.

It did not go unnoticed that the bottle was already half gone. “I thought she like to have the Commander in her dreams.”

Solas’ eyes glanced at him before returning to the window. “She did not even wish for me to be in this one. Something tells me she did not even want to see it.” His voice was so quiet Dorian had trouble making out the words.

Dorian could feel his heartbeat rush. “What did you see?”

“Something that should never have happened. If the man was not dead, I would have killed him myself.” The elf was obviously weighing something and Dorian couldn’t help but grow impatient. Why was the elf here if not to share something? “Her keeper…the least of his crimes…he used blood magic on her, when she was young, to make her forget something she had seen. The mind is a funny thing though, it rarely truly forgets. In this case…I wish she had.”

Leaning over, Dorian refilled the elf’s glass. He was no stranger to the ways mages abused blood magic. “Will she be okay?”

Solas nodded, “Though…she may never forgive me. I asked Cole to make her forget.”

Dorian tensed. “You should not have done that.”

“I know.”

~

Cullen

He paced his office impatiently, waiting on a report, orders, something. The more he tired to think clearly, the more things evaded him. Dreams had a funny way about them. The chair wasn’t there while he was pacing, but as he sat down it supported him, like it should. He was almost sorry he had sex with Nialla when things were so unclear about their relationship. Almost.

There was a soft knock on the door before it opened silently. “Cullen,” Her voice and appearance were tired, looking worse for wear from when he had last seen her.

“Hey,” He smiled but it felt forced even to him. It was hard to be happy seeing her when she was still so far away. “Are you okay?”

She let out a soft chuckle, “As okay as ever.” She looked around, taking in their surroundings. Everything sharpened as she surveyed it, becoming more real than it was when someone wasn’t paying attention. The location seemed to amuse her. “Stone walls are so strange…have you always lived in places like this?”

Cullen stood from his seat, moving over to her. Even if it was a dream, he wanted to touch her. “Not always, I grew up in a small village.”

“Until you joined the Order?” He nodded. “Was it quiet?”

He laughed, “No, I had four siblings. Let’s just say living with the Order wasn’t much different.”

“Not a lot of room to yourself?”

“No.” He wrapped his hands around her waist from behind, pulling her back to his chest.

“Do you like it? Having your own space?”

He hummed at that, speaking into her neck as he replied, “I do, but I would not mind sharing it with the right person.” He could see the blush on her cheeks and he was glad to distract her from whatever had been on her mind when she entered.

“The right person?” She repeated, a little dazed.

“Yes.” He trailed kisses absently along her neck.

“Did you have anyone in mind?” Nialla let out a soft gasp when he sucked at a patch of skin on her neck. Her head tilted, giving him more room to explore.

“Like who?” Her voice was breathless and he could feel the stupid grin on his face.

He hummed, as though he had to think about it. He wanted her, more than anything. But he didn’t just want her; he wanted her to belong to him – and him to her. She was forceful and confident but she was also shy and he wanted to stay wrapped around her like this forever. “Probably someone small, so they don’t take up a lot of room…”

The blush spread to her neck, deepening to a lovely shade of pink. “I am not…you’re just too big.”

“I’ve never heard you complain about my size before, Inquisitor.” His words made the innuendo clear and he used her title as a taunt.

Nialla may have been small but she was perfect that way. Her body was limber and agile and no movement was wasted as she spun in his arms and captured his lips with her own. When she pulled away she was grinning, “Stupid human.”

He couldn’t help the groan that escaped him and his hands instinctively pulled her hips flush to his. “An Inquisitor is only as clever as her advisors.”

She rolled her eyes, “Thank the Creators I have Leliana then.”

Instead of a reply he simply pulled her in for a kiss, keeping his hand at the back of her head so she wouldn’t pull away. He could feel her melt beneath him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders while her nails ran over his scalp. He pulled away, smiling at the fact she was breathing heavier now, her eyes sleepy and relaxed. Maker, I never even had a chance, he thought to himself. Even if she hadn’t looked like Roslyn he would have fallen for her. He could only be glad that he had caught her attentions. “What about Josephine and Cassandra?” He still envied Cassandra, even if it meant tireless days spent fighting undead and demons he wished he could be by her side so often.

“I would never survive in court without our Lady Ambassador and…Cassandra has a way of being very direct with people. It saves time.”

Cullen let out a laugh at that, “That is a very diplomatic observation.”

The warmth in her smile put him at ease. “I have been getting better, haven’t I?”

More than better, she was Dalish but it hardly ever showed. She got to know people and they appreciated her for it. She was sociable, even with the nobles and they could see how clever she was. They liked to try to play her but they respected her intelligence. Bull reminded him of her with his ease and ability to assess. She wasn’t quite as good at it, but she listened more than spoke and it was refreshing in a leader.

He brushed her hair away from her face, leaning in to kiss her again. He could feel himself waking up and he didn’t want that. More accurately he wanted her to be there when he woke. His kiss was gentle, chaste. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

Nialla’s hands tightened in his hair, “I have to.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. She had to do everything herself. All the might of the Inquisition but they still needed their Inquisitor out there, leading them. He loved and hated it. “I love you.” His words were quiet and he did not mean to let them slip past. The surprise of them was clear on her face and she opened her mouth to reply but something pulled him out of the Fade and he groaned, sitting up in his bed.

There was a knock coming from one of the doors below. Cullen quickly dressed in his breeches and tunic, slipping on his boots before sliding down the ladder to let in one of Leliana’s scouts. “Jim, what is it?” He knew he was being curt with the man, but he had no patience for the Inquisition right now. Leaving the door open, he stalked back to his desk. He had just told their Inquisitor he loved her. What if this was just a distraction for her?

“Reports from Crestwood, Commander, Sister Leliana said you should get them right away.” The scout looked curiously at the Commander’s disheveled state. Usually he was always the immaculate Commander, he rarely slept so late and only wore such casual clothing when training.

“Is that all?”

The scout stiffened and set down the reports, “Yes, ser.”

Cullen nodded, “Alright, thank you, dismissed.”

~

Jim

Even irritated the Commander looked more relaxed than he had since the Inquisitor had left. Leliana would be pleased to know that their “Lion Commander” was more at ease now. He had been stalking around for days like a caged animal. Today though he looked more at one with his space, owning it instead of being trapped by it. He wondered absently what had happened to cause the change.

Sister Leliana, Lady Josephine, and Varric were running bets on the Inquisitor and the Commander and it kept the bulk of the inner circle and the nobles entertained but to the soldiers and scouts…they were simply glad to see the more human side of their leaders. They were all members of the Inquisition.

Speaking to Nialla had made him feel far more valued in his role as a scout, even if he was just Leliana’s eyes on the Commander. They were – every single one of them – the Inquisition. Nialla would no sooner leave a patrol than she would her companions. She proved that to everyone in the Fallow Mire. He knew of the Commander’s withdraws from Lyrium, was often tasked with making sure he had a healing potion nearby. He knew of the Inquisitor’s tireless efforts with pleasing those around her. He also knew that when they were together they looked at each other with such affection that it healed them.

Both of the leaders were deeply scarred. Such observations came easier to people who had lead the kind of destitute life he had and Leliana had helped him hone his skills to use as an edge for the Inquisition. He enjoyed his job, it gave him purpose, but he loved his leaders. They were genuine, good. He would give everything to protect them…and having front row seats to their love life wasn’t so bad.

Solas watched him curiously from where he sat on the scaffolding. Whenever the Inquisitor was gone the apostate would work on the murals he was painting. There wasn’t much done considering Solas would travel with her often. The elf looked at Nialla possessively but she never seemed to show any more affection than she did with any of her other companions.

He never spoke to the elf but he was very aware that he was watching. If he wasn’t one of the Inquisitor’s companions then he may have though the elf was a spy with the way he watched the scouts move through Skyhold.

~

Nialla

“You slept better tonight.” Cole observed as she pulled herself out of the Fade, a little groggy. They had all deserved to sleep in today considering they had taken down a bloody dragon. Bull had started drinking early in the night to commemorate the occasion. Sera had passed out by the fire and Bull had made sure to tuck her in before retiring.

She could still hear Cullen’s confession. Her mind was reeling…it had to have been a desire demon. “Chaos, war…nothing is certain, he wouldn’t get attached so easily. It has to be a trick. Death glances off at every turn, he knows better. You’re a soldier now; soldiers die so you can’t love him. It’s better that it’s not real. What’s not real?”

Nialla sighed, rubbing her face, “I don’t want to die on him, Cole.”

“Then don’t die.”

She let out a bitter laugh at the simple response. “It’s not that easy. I have to do things.”

“Like fighting dragons?”

“Like fighting dragons…”

“I think he’ll understand. He loves you.” Cole seemed to watch her for a moment. “I made you sad.”

She shook her head, “No, it’s okay. Talking about it helps, even if it makes me sad.”

He nodded, “I understand.”

~

They would be back at Skyhold within the hour. She had sent letters to Leliana about the dragon. Bull would want to celebrate again. Josephine would want to flaunt to the nobles that the Inquisitor is a dragon slayer.

“So you don’t like other elves, right?”

“I don’t like elfy elves.” Sera corrected Bull.

“What about the Inquisitor?”

“What about her?”

“She’s Dalish.” Bull pointed out, stating the obvious.

“And?”

“Isn’t she too elfy?”

“Well, she doesn’t go waving it about like some people. Talking about past glory and all that rot. She keeps her elfy to herself.”

“I don’t think I’d mind if she spread it around more.” Bull grinned devilishly.

Sera snorted at that, catching on for once. “I think you’d have to get past cully wully before you could even think about getting her spread all over yourself.”

Bull laughed, “Fair point.”

“Ooh, ooh, the tips of her ears, they’re doing the thing!” Sera said excitedly, commenting on Nialla’s growing blush.

“You know, Boss, you should read some of the letters the nobles send to your lover, I’m sure it would help if things ever got stale in bed.”

“Hard to get stale in bed when you don’t do it in bed.” She quipped back. Cullen wasn’t hers but she’d be damned if she let Bull diss Cullen’s sexual skills because he wasn’t as practiced.

Bull laughed, “Alright, don’t get snippy.” He turned serious for a moment, “But you know, if you ever did get a little bored, I could always help spice things up for the two of you.”

Sera laughed, “You’re mad!”


End file.
